***Hey Everybody. This is a random project I started. Not sure what exactly it is or where it will lead to, but I just started writing and this is what I have written so far. As I think now I do have a general storyline or such in mind. Give me your feedback on what I have so far!***
When the woman came to our university, I pretended like she was crazy. Everyone else thought so, and everyone else loved her for it. I loved her too. But I didn’t think she was crazy. She told us about her dreams, about her memories of her childhood, about the people she knew when she was in Paraguay. That’s where she was born, she had told us. The first day I saw her it was a Thursday. I think it was maybe a week into the second semester, but I could be mistaken. All I knew for sure was, in fact, that it was a Thursday. The day I reserved for the library, which is where she was. When I walked through the door, she was sitting on a cloth armchair at the side of the entrance. I was the first to notice her. I watched her from a distance as I looked through the racks of books. The section for musical literature is where I was, I suppose. I didn’t know anything about music. Maybe I wanted to learn. Or maybe that’s the place where I ended up when I couldn’t help but stare, as I wandered through the endless sea of spines and paper. My eyes were fixed on the armchair by the side of the entrance. Red, velvety, it looked comfortable. I don’t think that had been there before. The university didn’t even have chairs like that. She noticed me. Our eyes met. She smiled and motioned me over. I shelved the book I had been pretending to read.
“You know nobody’s noticed me at all since I’ve been here. I’ve even slept here. Two days in a row now.”
I stood in front of the armchair, looking down. She sat with her legs crossed, no book, nothing, her hands crossed, also, on her knee.
“Who are you?” I genuinely wanted to know.
She looked up and stared me directly in the eye. She smiled, faintly. A small chuckle arose.
“Someone. An old woman, can’t you see? I know things.” She tapped her temple with her index finger as she said this.
I was confused, as anyone would be. I will admit, looking back, that at first I thought she was crazy. You know what? As a matter of fact, she was crazy. She was. But that’s not that point I was trying to make. They thought she was a liar, amusement, a good story teller is all. They thought she was “crazy”. I did not. Do you see the difference?
I turned my head around, but kept my body still, looking at the vast academic wilderness that had been behind me. Students, at tables, talking, whispering, gossiping. Laptops, typing away. I could hear one in particular going nearly 80 miles per hour by the sound of it. A deadline on the horizon, I can only imagine. Pretty impressive to say the least. Nobody was looking at us, nobody was noticing.
“Who are, you?” She was questioning me this time around.
“Hello. Ace Ferguson. Tonight, we'll meet me on the roof of the Terrace Pointe. Ten.”
She leaned forward, and raised herself to her feet. I stepped back, in awe, staring i’m sure. Such a stupid face it must have been. She began walking away.
“Wait. Why? Why would I do that?” I half smiled as I said this. It was kind of funny to me at that time. She must have been joking, right?
“I’m lonely. I’m an old woman after all, can’t you see? Don’t you have any common courtesy? Any decency at all?”
She smiled and left me where I was standing, casually making her departure from the library. I must have stayed where I was standing for another two minutes or so, confused as anyone would have been, had they been in my situation. I stood, staring, out the open doors. And when I when I turned around, unsurprisingly, no one with looking, no one was noticing.