Sketch.

Vera sits on the grey couch between two and five p.m.--after work, but before dinner. Her oversized t-shirt blends into the fabric, except the picture of the kitten in a basket and the words, "Best Friends Animal Sanctuary." Her thick grey hair blends in, too, but her sore thumbs stick out. They stick out because she sews all day, and often pricks them while pushing her needle through thick cloth, like on jackets or snow pants. Vera goes to her night job at eight. She carries plates of steaming meat from the kitchen to the meat-eating slobs who order it. Later she swallows pills and falls asleep to Spanish soap operas even though she only speaks English. The expression on a slighted lover's face is universal.

Sadie sits on the grey couch between seven and nine a.m.--after breakfast, but before Political Science. Everything she does has already been done, but no one seems to notice. She changes around the words in her old award-winning essays to make new award-winning essays. She changes around the words in her old acceptance speeches to make new acceptance speeches. She memorizes things people say and tells them back to the people that said them to her. People follow her around and tell her she's brilliant. She changes the words of her old gracious responses to make new gracious responses. And they love her.

Chelsea watches the people that sit on the grey couch between seven and five p.m.--after Pilates, but before James makes it home. She asks them questions they never really answer, and she writes down their words (or lack thereof) in her little notebook. After work she drives home and cooks a vegetable, a fruit, a starch, and a meat for James. She pours two glasses of milk. When he gets home she tells him she already ate.

~ inspired by a friend.