November Will Remember

part II

Okay! This chapter has had me thinking a lot.
It's got profanity- don't say I didn't warn you.

P.S sorry I didn't update in a million years.

i.

"Chasing you is like a fairytale," she says, reading my metal box. It's the first time she's come to my stall and actually observed my little space. The space that contains me and everything that is born out of my mind and hands.

"Yeah, the previous owner wrote that."

She starts laughing, like a laugh that says that there's nothing funny, but says that she is happy.

"So, about my painting."

"Yes. It's like, really vague and hazy, and for some reason, I just know it's me. Y'know?" She keeps walking around in front of my stall, with a face that has a lot of expression. To show that she's thinking about what to say.

And she's muttering all of this to me, so I nod in response.

"I painted you faceless," I blurt out. She stops walking and looks at me. "And pretty much soulless, considering the lack of attention paid to the figure," I add.

"Yes, I was wondering why you'd done that. However, that is what makes me and doesn't make it me simultaneously, depending on whose eyes you use to see the figure."

She knows, she knows. It's like she reads the painting as if she were reading a book. She noticed what was happening in the story, what the author was trying to tell her. But in this case, what I was painting. Or at least I thought so.

"Yeah, I'm asking myself the same question. I don't know why I did it, I just felt like it."

I smile at her and stay quiet. We both stay quiet for sometime, but then she speaks again.

"When you look at it from my eyes, I see it as a belief someone, in this case—you, have of me. As there's a belief that solitudes nourishes creativity, likewise, you have a certain belief about me, and that's how you've painted me. It's also the part that isn't me."

"What is that belief I may have of you?"

"That I'm soulless."

I don't answer her, and she goes away to take a walk on the beach by herself.

The day for her ends at 5:45 the evening, after she picks up her boom box and leaves the beach. I can see her wait at the bus stop opposite Temple Tree, until the bus 335E comes to pick her up. Her boom box is in one hand and the hand is sometimes holding her buss pass. She comes with her black hair in a bun in the morning, but then stands at the bus stop with her hair loose, letting the wind play with it.

The day's not really over until she's gone home. It's a little ritual that I watch.

Other than dancing, she keeps disappearing and appearing from time to time. I have no idea where she goes, but sometimes I don't see her for hours. She and Klaus get along well, because I think Klaus has asked her how to incorporate dance into his act and one thing has led to another. I often wonder what has happened between them. He's generally here on Saturdays and once or twice on the weeks days, so on Saturdays they spend a lot of time together.

I wouldn't know why I'm being so observant.

Mr. Juan comes out for a walk sometimes at five, after he closes his shop. Whenever he passes by, I smile at him and have a two minute conversation with him. He's always asking about her and me, sometimes saying, "why is it that I rarely see you both talk?" Or, "does she pass by your stall often?" I don't have answers for these questions, but I think he wants me to. It's not like he's asking these questions for the heck of it, but that there are other thoughts connected to the answers of these questions.