A woman walked in to the store I was working in. A store filled with random goods and a woman from Senegal who made African clothes. One day a veiled women in all black walked in. "Bonjour" she said, as all the Senegalese did when they walked in to the store. She looked around at some of the jilbabs which was part of my father's merchandise. Then she and the Senegalese tailor started to chat, she offered her to look at some of the Senegalese outfits she'd had. The woman refused and gave a roaring laugh "I use to wear that, but I would caused problems in the street". I laughed to myself not being a part of the conversation but unable to hold back at such an amusing cry. The moral of the story: Modesty is outlined by God and his Messenger (peace of God be upon him) but some of have to go the extra mile when blessed with exceptional beauty ;)

A thought on trusting strangers

I am under the strong belief that people are more trustworthy then not. Or at least that people behave in trustworthy ways more often then they do not. I don't think this world could survive if this weren't true. Granted a pessimistic would point out the murders and child kidnappings I would still argue that even the fact that this is noteworthy behavior stands to show that most of us do not wish to commit such atrocities nor ever would.
I sit before a man, or rather behind a gentleman in a coffee shop. He is now enjoying his coffee, reading I suppose from his his heads downward position. A few moments a go this very man walked in to the coffee shop placed his stuff down beside a table and in a chair; a large case of something that I suppose has to do with art or fashion by his appearance and a travel bag. After plopping his stuff down he walks to the line, awaiting the cashier and stands behind the last in line. As I stare in to space I catch him glimpsing over at his stuff, and he does the same again when he gets on another line to wait for his food.
I was mistaken the particularly well dressed fellow is using his cell phone, reading an email I suppose though it will probably remain conjecture. I don't see myself as enough of a creep to look that close. Any who, so once the chap gets his food or coffee or both he simply sits down.
So what was the old display of slight worry and yet the outward disregard for the welfare of one's stuff. Is it possible that he both trusts me and the fellows cafe'ers not to steal his stuff and at the very same time does worry that someone could steal his stuff....
Well, the truth is though some dummies do like to rat their way around life most of us don't. So I suppose an individual can trust the public in general but can't trust individuals. Its possible that you could trust the fact that people won't steal your stuff if you put it don't for a moment and the very same time not trust that this guy with the suit or that girl in black (me ;) may very well steal your stuff. So you can put your stuff down without worrying that everyone in a given place will conspire against you to steal your messenger bag (which may very well make you seem crazy) but to believe that one little rat will try to get by with a little stealth and steal the pen you left hanging out your bag or try their luck and run out with all your stuff. So a little concern is necessary but know that most people are decent people most of the time "_".

Death of a sibling

She wears a contingent smile on her face, one I knew would fade away if I happened to say just the wrong thing. So I said nothing, letting the laughter slide in to an emptiness. Her eyes turn back to glare at the TV, I could tell she wasn't really engaged but rather just passing the time.
I could never understand why she would keep the TV on as 'background noise'. Her eyes remove its position as if she could hear my thoughts -my thoughts which were judging her, criticizing her. She stops for a moment to surf through the various updates her phone had given her. A few text messages, some unread emails and facebook notifications. She slides through them rubbing her fingers back and fourth against the buttonless device. She glances up again, this time she laughs at a strangers voice on the other side of the screen. Other side, inside, far away but yet closer then I could be. He told a joke that she herself would tell and she was satisfied with his delivery. It was as if she herself wrote the joke as she laughs before his sentence was finished. 'Its so true' she says nodding in agreement. She turned her attention back to her device realizing that was probably the the last joke of the half hour show. Knowing because as he said 'coming up is (so and so) from (so and so), some elected official would would most likely bore her to tears or make an off-hand joke that would comprimise his job. 'Welcome' he said as she turns to another channel. She flips through music videos and cartoons, all while waiting for someone to comment on her status. She turns until she reaches a Sitcom which would again make her laugh. Somewhere in her subconscious longs for a laugh, a moment of glee -of happiness. She laughs at the scripted humor, she laughs along with its laugh tracks. At times she laughs longer and harder then she knows the joke deserves and at times I turn to laugh with her.

The Clown

After the war I started to love clowns. I went to the circus whenever it was in town. I went to all of them -barnum and bailey, universoul, cirque de sole, even ones I can't remember.Any chance I could find at happiness I took it. I soon became consumed with the circus and with clowns, it was my only source of joy.
Some day in early November I went to see and act. It was amazing. I happened to look in to the eyes of one of the clowns and I felt -amazing! I left the circus with a fleet of joy that was unimaginable to be before. I'd fell in love.I went to see the act everyday that it showed. His stage name was 'the whimsical wiseguy'. I laughed everyday I would see him. He was so funny. His entire act was silent, but he didn't need to say a word. I understood every joke.
Sometimes I would laugh long after everyone else. Most times I'd sit in the back row but on the last night of the show I was right up their in front with him. That's when it happened our eyes meet and we saw deep in to each other's heart. I saw his sorrow, his pain, his joy -i saw him without makeup and he saw me in the same way.I could have sworn that I mouthed the word 'I love you' but I could never be sure. All I know is that he gave me a smile that said 'I love you too'. His act was only 20 minutes or so though for me it felt like a lifetime. It happened in the middle of the show.
I wish I could have stayed there forever. When he left the stage... He took a piece of me with him -and he knows it! He has to know that we belong together, I'm the only one who understands him and he's the only one that makes me happy.I wonder if I'd love him once he takes off the makeup and if he would love me if I stopped laughing. Once the act was over I got up, I didn't stay for the rest of the show.
He was the show, he was everything.When I went to war, I felt so disgusting and degraded everyday. I went to war for my country -my family, but for me everyday was a tragedy. The smells, the bodies, the fear I could never look at anyone the same again. My heart was wounded in that battle, my confidence, my empathy all taken away from me. But he made me feel human again. I haven't been to the circus since. I haven't laughed since that day.
I go about my life, looking in to the eyes of strangers wondering is that him -is that him. For a few fleeting moments I I saw him without his makeup and he saw me without mine. I try to recreate the scene in my mind, and I see him once again smiling back at me.

The city of darker light (part 1)

The flashes were an everyday part of CDL. No one went to bed until they had at least three hours of flashes. It was a common place of enjoyment for everyone. But it simply wasn't enough for Yunice. There was a saying in the nation 350 flashes a day keeps the pain away. Yunice remembered the saying as she zapped a shot of anetka in her arm. The drug was more than instant gratification it was a chance to remember him. Anetka could take you anywhere sometimes bad sometimes good but it was worth the chance if she could see Hector again.
"You have the power to be free, if you follow me I can lead you to the fate of the bright future of Nation, The ony way to attain prosperity is to get rid of the enemy of progession" Junior posted the flyer up on the board. It was a chance to earn a little money from TOP. The security guard walked up behind him. Her pale skin and grey eyes pierced at him. Though her stocky body and folded arms demanded respect -or at least attention, He ignored her energy and kept his back to her.
"Take em' down" she insisted
He defiantly keeped his back to her though he knew the consequences of messing with the CDL authority...