Welcome to Gaia! ::

A short piece I did for my Creative Writing class:

She was one of those people that was impossible to hate, that Jane girl. She did nothing to draw attention to herself, yet my eyes were drawn to her as quickly if she were dancing La Boheme in the middle of Times Square. But of course she wasn’t.

I see her every day on my way to school; she’s always on that busy corner of 42nd Street and Broadway. She just stands there, a small hint of a smile playing across her lips. I say she’s the Mona Lisa. My sister begs to differ; she says that she’s nothing but a girl without a home. I disagree.

I’m one of those people who notices the intricate details of life that are invisible to everyone else. My sister says I have no life; my mother calls me an artist. I can see the gold flecks in this girl’s deep, soulful green eyes. She has a light sprinkling of freckles across her nose and cheeks that somehow in her poor health, always manage to be rosy. Her lips are another thing altogether, full and gently parted as she watches each passerby. She has waves of auburn hair that cascade in rivers to her waist. Her figure is bony and has no curves. She wears the same thing every day, except on Fridays. Fridays she wears a stained gray shirt that seems to swallow her, making her appear smaller than she is. On the bottom she wears a wrinkled black skirt that comes to mid-calf, just below her knobbly knees. Her feet are always bare.

My sister said I was crazy to ask her name, she’s a nobody, it doesn’t matter what she’s called. But I did. Jane. Her name is Jane. The pure delight of someone taking the time to talk to her and ask her her name spread easily across her face. Her eyes lit up and her pale skin seemed to glow.

Yesterday I brought her a warm blueberry bagel wrapped in white paper. That wonderful smile of hers beamed up at me as she took the gift. There seemed no point in standing there so I nodded in farewell and walked off. I only wish there was more I could do for her besides the now traditional breakfast we share. Maybe take her to Central Park and show her the trees. I think she’d like that.