(c) 2001
The guy across the room keeps staring at me. Procrastinating, he�s intent on shuffling around the materials on his desk in a desperate bid to pretend he is working. He doesn�t look like a university student, or a teacher. I wonder what he is doing in here.
The tall blonde keeps walking back and forth with heavy books in her hands. The guy behind her enjoys the view. She looks like she�s on her way to a party, why is she studying?
Maybe she went out last night. Perhaps with the guy who�s fallen asleep. He wasn�t studying, but out clubbing and partying with the blonde. They came home at 9am, when he realised that he had a test tomorrow. Only, he�s too tired to study.
But she isn�t.
As my pen scratches on the paper, the girl at the next table glares disapprovingly before returning to her paper. She has a massive pile of books by her side and is crouched over, that intent on memorising every word she reads. Again, she glares at the guy shuffling his books around; yet he seems oblivious to those around him.
He is still staring at me.
The old man, calmly writing in a stained notebook, wheezes as if it�s his last breath. I hope he doesn�t suffer from a heart attack in here, nobody looks qualified as a doctor.
The schoolgirl across the table is studying studiously, but looks out of the place in the sophistication of the room. I wonder as to her intent; most school students are too occupied with their social lives to waste away an afternoon in here.
Two tables away, a cute guy catches my eye. Judging by the books on the table, he�s a med. student. Well, if the old man gets into trouble, help is here, albeit a very circumspect one.
The blonde prances in once again, as a collective sigh resounds from the males. The cute guy flashes me a smile before rising.
Again, my eyes wander, this time to the rugged looks of the longhaired bevan sitting to my left. His interest lies solely with the book in his hands. The blonde is approached. He doesn�t seem her type, but she bats her eyes and answers his questions with a knowing smile. The studious girl looks up. I wonder, is she jealous of the attention? Does she hide behind her books to cover the bitterness of her life?
Out of the window, cars race along the river road, intent on arriving at their destination before they actually do. Somehow, the silence of the room manages to block out the angry noises of the city and its wary habitants.
The med. Student walks past�and lays a hand on the schoolgirl�s arm. Startled, she looks up and smiles. Packing up, she joins him and they walk out without a second glance. Disappointed, I look for the longhaired bevan, but his seat is empty. The only remnants of his presence are the books he left behind.
Another old man has joined the first one, and they both wheeze their way through their journals.
The student in the corner, though haggard, has managed to awake. His studies lie abandoned as he listlessly dreams of the city across the river.
The guy on the left stretches before standing. His masquerade is over and he can now return to the dull dregs of his life.
Miss Blonde is yet again approached, this time by a girl the splitting image of Janet Jackson. Gathering books, they go to wander amongst the aisles. The studying girl sniffles and sneezes, inhibited by the constant air conditioning. Passing her a tissue, I see a sign of gratitude, which surprises me. Turning around, only three of us remain, the silence seems quieter. The old man has left, his friend leaning on his cane.
A stately woman walks to me, whispering that its time to go. It�s dark outside. I vaguely notice the others slowly packing up their books and handing them to the woman, before walking rapidly towards the doors. My eyes are glued to the dancing reflections on the river from the dazzling cars. Everything is lit, creating an illusionary fairytale around the city walls.
A quiet cough signals me back to reality, as I realise that I am the only one left at the table. I close my books, realising that the pages remain blank, and the pens unused. The girl studying shuffles towards the exit with a longing look at the rows of books. Hastily and with a smile, I glance for the last time at the dizzying array of colour, before turning my back to the room.
The End.
