Monique
When Monique awakes, a painful look glides over her face. She caresses her legs and arms. “Agh!” she grunts, placing her right hand on the center of her stomach. Purple and black bruises conceal her arms and legs.
She finally sits up off of the white leather couch, and runs her hand through her short and fine hair. She slips into black leather pants and a striped tucked t-shirt.
She walks across the room to the glass cupboards and pulls out a paper bag. She sniffs around the bag and shows a expression of pleasure and awe. Before she opens it, she strolls up to her glass window and holds what seems to be a cigarette. She lights up and glares straight across the road into my building. My legs tremble. Can she see me watching her?
“You gonna keep watching me? Or are you gonna come over.” she mouths.
My mouth widens and I quickly remove the binoculars from my eyes. I don’t know if I should be excited or scared. Ecspecially considering that paper bag.
I walk into the bathroom and admire my hair. “What should we do, what should we do.” I ask myself. First impressions are everything.
I finally saturate my hair in water and brush out all of my tangled curls. “Maybe we can just go natural for today.”
When I reach across the street, a building taller than mine stands before me. I can barely see between the tinted glass. A short old lady sits at the front desk, writing stuff down. I press the small bell placed beside the revolving door. Two men dressed in black glide between the doors and stand before me with their arms crossed.
“Can we help you?” they ask, one of them raising an eyebrow. “Um, yes, i’m Jordan. Jordan from across the street.”
They look at me for a second, then gain eye contact. The taller guy retrieves the toothpick from between his gap and points it at me.
“Jordan?” one of them repeats, looking back at the lady at the desk. She shrugs and continues writing things down. They turn back to me and look me from head to toe. Before they can bring on their abrupt dismiss, Monique walks between their buff arms.
“Come in.”
