Short Story 2

David wasn't sure what he was looking at. The shape was unique, bursting, showing a muted lifestyle. He thought it was on par with most contemporary art, really. An amorphous blob, surely with much deeper meaning.

The woman shot him a glare.

She had seen him staring. "May as well go for broke," David said under his breath.

He walked over to her table. "excuse me ma'am, are you free later? I think you could be the highlight of my art gallery opening soon. It's my first solo gallery. It's called, Follies of Excess. You'd be a perfect fit, for once."

He didn't even wait for her to reply. The bell clanged as he opened the door and he was on his way.

"You really are too old for that," said a voice behind him.

He turned around. "Georgie! How've you been?"

The two hugged. George was 38, slender, and had a full, graying mop for hair.

"Seriously, you son of a bitch. What did you do to that poor woman? She looks like you shot her dog."

"Only so she could eat it for a snack."

They both laughed. David started fiddling with his ring while George checked his phone.

"I hate do to this to you, Dave-O, but I've gotta run. Let's catch up soon. It's been too long."

"Yeah, sure sure. Mr. Business man is too busy for me. I got it."

They hugged again, and started off.

"Oh, George. Say hi to Camilla for me, okay?"

"Yeah, sure thing bud." George paused. "Really nice to see you Dave, you look great."

David watched George walk away. He really would have enjoyed catching up with George. Would have been nice to talk about the good old times. Not like they were really that old anyways.  He didn't know what he was going to do with the rest of the day. He didn't have work which meant he didn't have anything planned. He started walking.

He thought about the last time he had actually done something. Sure, he still had his midday lunches now and again. And sometimes he'd go out with coworkers for drinks, or whatever he was supposed to do to help his career. But that was really all. What did he do with his days? T.V.? Read? Not really, but those took up enough time. He mostly just sat around. Not that it was a bad thing.

He wasn't 23 anymore, was he. He had responsibility, he had settled down. He figured everyone settled down eventually. It was only normal.

There was a woman zig zagging through people. She was walking with such force and quickness that should have been on a segue. Her hair was in a neat bun. She had a handful of papers. A kid was staring at his phone, tapping away at the screen. Another was right beside the first, doing exactly the same thing.

David thought that maybe having things to do or people to pretend to care about wasn't so great. Everyone was so absorbed in their own world. Everyone had their own thing going. Even George was too busy to chat for more than 30 seconds. Maybe he had it okay after all. He could watch people, and there wasn't much better than that.

He wasn't sure where he was going; he just let his feet lead the way. He didn't have to be anywhere. It was safe, easy, relaxing. But wasn't he just lamenting the fact he never went out?

"Fuck it." A woman looked up t him from her paper on the bus bench.

"Oh, sorry hun." People these days, he thought. He knew he was in the wrong, but why did that woman have to glare? They all glare. He was no different than them. Just because they were off in their wold doesn't mean he should be silent and let them go. But he was in his own world too, wasn't he.

He looked around. There was an ice cream parlor to his left. It had no signs. It had been their favorite. Shorty's. That's what they had called it. The owner looked like a hobbit. How long had she been gone? Nearly two and a half years, he thought. He hadn't thought of her in days now. Almost a week, wasn't it?

"Huh," he said to the world. He walked on.