Friday in the mall, (creative nonfiction) and a comic
I am standing in front of his picture in the mall. He looks older than his years, but I know he's in elementary school. The picture is larger than life, the pain behind his smile is larger than life. My mind flashes to him swinging his backpack against a tree, trying to bludgeon it all away. He's mad because I have to be a part of this system and be the mouthpiece of the system. I hate pushing the system on him. This child is a true modern orphan, but no one would call it that. We have other names for that now. His picture is next to one of a teen girl who is the same age as my son. She just wants a family that can help her creative potential blossom. I am good at that, you know. I am good at helping people's creativity blossom. How do we have a society where people fly to third world countries to give aid, but we have all this desperate need right here? I cant look at these pictures any more. I walk to a cafe to get some soup.
The soup burns my mouth. At the table next to me, a woman has terrible tremors in her hands and is trying to zip her coat. Behind the counter, the barista keeps calling out "12 Oz Chai at the bar! 16 Oz Hot Chocolate at the bar! " and no one comes for them. Another woman sits alone and keeps getting up to find more items to perfectly set her little cafe table: Two water glasses, two napkins, two forks placed perfectly on the napkins. She sits on the edge of her chair, looking stressed. Some kind of Christmas performance is being assembled near us in the mall. I wrap my coat tighter around me and wish I could muster up the good natured guts to ask the barista if I can have the abandoned chai. She keeps calling out for its owner. I imagine her wincing internally every time. I imagine her wishing her shift was over, so she could go dancing or something since its Friday. I imagine ways to steal the chai. I write a comic about stealing the chai in my head because I don't have a pen. I'm smiling into my soup, I'm laughing at my tiny glass of ice water. The mall fills with folding chairs, preparing for a song. My soup is exceptionally good.
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very true statement
There are so many lonely, needy people right here if we'd open our eyes to it.
And no body claims the chai....bummer.
Yes it was a depressing trip to the mall. I had to get a new phone because mine was being super glitchy ... I'd had a hard day at work due to the sad things going on with my clients, and then the mall just seemed so sad, with a photo of one of my clients on display, too. But as I sat there I kind of came back to life.. it was probably the soup... and felt more hopeful again when I finally left. (I dont like malls!) :)
You are in a tough occupation. I can imagine how these situations stick to you. I'm a crisis sponge and emotion sponge so I wouldn't do well in social work - I would be a mess.
I'm not a mall person either. I only go if I HAVE to.
Soup is always good for the soul....and you had a bit of some self care time.
yes also writing about it was so helpful. I have mixed feelings about writing gloomy things because I dont want others to think that is all I am about. So i drew the comic today to go along with it to try and give a little of both. Writing always helps me process things. And I hope to raise awareness as well.
You can write whatever you want - whatever is you. It makes sense that you'd be nervous about being too transparent at this point but you never know who you're going to reach on here.
Writing about how you work through your emotions might help someone else.
Be you. :)
This place is so great :)
Thank you for sharing your writing and artwork. The comic is really funny :D I follow :)
YAY thank you ! I am still figuring out how to do all this so its scary haha but i am excited to try!
It's like Uber with Chai (and less bro-xecutives). Chuber!