Curiosity

They all notice at once. Most turn away, look at their feet, or pretend to spot something above my head on the building. But three of them stare. The older ones. I'm right there with them. I look deep into all three. I sip my drink, but do not look away.

After a few seconds two of them turn away, but one still looks on. The girl has black, stringy hair. She is staring harder and I lean in to intensify the moment. She abandons the group and leans against a car on the other side of the street. She's young, too young to be so brave. Is she twelve? Ten? I don't know, she is just so young.

Curiosity is different. This is something else.


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