Jun 11, 2016

"Look, another posturing pretentious writer over to your right" a girl whispered to her friend in giggles. She was pointing at Samantha, who sat upright in her chair, a nice hot coffee by her side, and  the sunny rays warming her back. Her corner table gave her a nice view of the whole java shop.  She seemed pretentious alright. There she was in the best spot for gossiping with her eyes, looking down on everyone through her long nose with an upturned tip. She seemed to be sniffing out the pathetic and boring lies of the rest of the commoners. The paleness in her skin didn't help either, it hardened her already chiseled features. All in all, the kind of person you wouldn't want to approach in fear of getting "shooed" out of her presence lest you taint her pure air with your existence. It came to no surprise to the frequent coffee drinkers to always see her alone. Who would want to befriend someone like her?

Oh, had they only known how wrong they all were.

For Samantha it was just another day. There she sat, by the window with her laptop. The bandwidth was fast, though the coffee was just ok. She sighed as she looked around. This was ridiculous. She had had writer's block for the past month, couldn't get a decent page out for the life of her. When it finally got to an unbearable point she consulted her fellow writer friends; after all, she thought they might have survived something of the sort. The grand advice they had provided was for her to do this, to go write outside. The thing was, Samantha was shy and painfully disliked people looking at how she worked. She preferred to construct her stories whilst in the confinements of her home, where she found safety in solitude. Here she was vulnerable to the stares, to the glares.  Samantha realized she had been staring blankly at two young girls across the room. The girls quickly scurried away, like bunnies caught in headlights.

"I told you not to point Monica, now you've gone and upset the witch. Let's get out before she chews us out..."