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 city of darker light (part 2)

"What happened to you Junior" His mom sat on the end of his bed and related those words in a sad melodic tone. She had been worried about him lately -and now the marked had proven her right. He laid their on his stomach with the sheets barely reaching his back, he laid their not wanting to face his mother. He did not want to hear her speech. He loved her but she like most of the nation had fallen powerless and disenchanted with the government and the constant watch of the CDL. He didn't want to hear that he shouldn't be involved in the opposition party. He didn't want to care about the fact that he was spared and could have easily been killed by CDL. He wanted to believe that one day he could change the world. But here his mother was trying to knock his dreams down with reality.
"Junior, -you've been asleep for three weeks, what the hell did you do. Three marks Junior Three, until they kill you. Don't you care about me about your future?"
Junior gets up shirtless but still wearing his jeans from outside he pulls out a red sweater and a t-shirt. He looks around for his medallion. "Wheres my chain Ma"
"Chain -what chain, where are you going?" Gotta go you said it's been three weeks so that means its Sunday, the meetings are on Sundays" He searches around and takes up his phone from under his pillow. "Here" She pulls the medallion from her pocket " I had to tell CDL that your father name was Toppy, they let me keep the chain... -why are you doing this"
He looks at her then at his phone and maybe he would have explained if he had the time but the meeting started at five and he to go.........