Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Friday, August 26, 2011
Scene: A sidewalk along a busy Atlanta street. The sun is out, and the heat and humidity prowls the mid-morning air, biding its time. A seemingly young, petite girl with long, light brown hair is casually walking. She wears a form-fitting striped light green-and-white dress just barely long enough to serve its purpose. A silver stud sits above her right upper lip, and a large, intricate tattoo rests on her outer left thigh, partially occluded by the fabric of her dress. Held up in her left hand is an iPhone, playing music from its speakers, and in her right hand dangles a half-spent cigarette. People pass her from behind and she just turns her head, smiles at them slightly, and continues on walking, unperturbed.
(This is a scene I observed while walking by Children’s Healthcare of Atlanta, on Clifton Rd., on Friday, August 20th. I felt it deserved a narrative treatment because though no single element was particularly unique, the juxtaposition was simply too intriguing.)