{what you don't see} (a double drabble) 5.3.12

As I walked down the row of booths and tables at work, checking each one, inspecting for crumbs, running through a constant list of what I needed to do next, I stole glances at the people sitting there. Some attempted to quiet giddy children, some leaned on their lover's shoulders, some sat quietly behind their computers, some celebrated a birthday, some laughed uncontrollably with friends, some had their nose stuck in a book, some merely gazed at the empty bench across from them. But they all held one thing in common: a story no one else could ever fully know.

And I wondered, what did they hide behind their plastic smiles? What caused the tears in her eyes? Who was missing from the seat across from him? Was that the only job he could find? Where was that little boy's daddy? Was that ring on her finger new? And I suddenly wondered-who am I to judge that grumpy lady, or single mother, or screaming baby, or the young couple who stayed ten minutes past closing, or the man who sat there working for hours, or the ditsy girls roaring with laughter? For theirs are the stories make up our world