Keeping Up Appearances

She ordered something small and decent. Counting out the change carefully, she then tucked her wallet away into her purse. She had a place for everything in there. Thanking the man with a small smile, she took the dish and arranged it and a napkin carefully on the table. A small hunch in the shoulders. She wasn't hiding, but she wasn't seen. She liked the sound of pages turning. It was private and intimate. But it was a secret she would have liked to share with the world. And she would have if they had noticed her. With her eyes, she told what she was reading. A small sip of coffee, delicately wiping her lips. Placing the coffee softly on the napkin on the table. Cooped up in the corner. Surrounded by hubbub. Tables full of families, boyfriends, girlfriends, babies, screaming children, and tired, old ladies out to lunch. A man shifted loudly in his seat next to her. He scraped the chair across the floor and, to her, it sounded like thunder. Someone was rapping on the booth behind her. She hunched over like a conch shell. Hiding. But still in full view. A young man walked by. Large eyes. Casual air. He looked her full in the eyes. For a moment. Then he turned away. Did he care to see what she was reading? A sip of the coffee. Now cold. She reached up to touch her hair. Did it look alright? She looked around and smiled. But no one saw. Quietly, she smoothed her skirt. And stood. Very compact. Out of the way. She placed her book neatly into her purse. She had a place for everything in there. She coughed slightly. A sip of cold coffee. Head down. Walking upright. Hair half covering her expression, she threw away the coffee and walked out.