I sit on the cafe terrace and pretend that I’m waiting for someone. And in a way, I am. I’m waiting for them to walk by. For all of them.
I see weariness, excitement, surprise. Flashes. Sometimes they wave to catch my attention, lingering until their wearer has passed me by. And other times they shy away, so I turn my head.
For these brief moments, I almost feel as if I am meeting people. The first impression as I walk into a room. The superficial study that I use to look underneath.
Colours that match perfectly, colours that don’t. Blocking, styling, stating. A burst of blue, a pitter-patter of pink. They giggle across arms and down legs.