Desipathos

The girl sips her coffee as she watches the world pass her by. Through the bustle of the busy city park where she sits, a handful of scenes manage to capture her attention.

She sees a young boy in the distance, wailing in sadness and despair as his ice cream melts on the ground at his feet.

Two elderly women, lounging on a bench nearby, regale each other with tales of the follies of their youth, howling with laughter to the point of tears.

A man, his back leaning against a tree, his voice steadily rising as he argues a matter of seemingly vital importance, suddenly bellows in impotent rage and slams his phone into the tree.

The girl sees all these things and more. She unknowingly absorbs the distilled essence of these moments until she begins to feel a sudden fierce longing, rooted in envy. What is this pressure within? How long has it been there? She needs something, a catalyst. Give her the boy’s sorrow! Give her the women’s joy! Give her the man’s rage! Give her something that will allow her to vent her very soul out into the world - if only for a moment. Give her release!

And then, as if waking from a dream, the feeling passes. The girl blinks in mild confusion before softly shaking her head to herself.

The girl sips her coffee as she watches the world pass her by.