hannahziomek

Voyeur Hannah Ziomek I have been nursing my iced vanilla latte for so long that it is starting to taste more like water than anything. As I look around the room I try to focus on the woman on her laptop by the window and on the cashier ringing up customer after customer; however, neither of them can keep my attention for long. I am waiting for a character that will blow me away but I realize that seeking this out is making my task even more difficult. So, I decide to focus on the most boring thing I see: an old man who is simply just sitting there. Unlike everyone else who is either chatting over coffee, or working on their laptops he just sits there. Amongst all the hustle and bustle of working life he just sits there. I guess that maybe an old man does not have much to do but I begin to imagine why he might be sitting there at a table by himself mid-afternoon on a Friday in Saratoga Springs. And I realize: he is waiting for someone. He looks like an average Joe so I decide that

Momentary Blindness Hannah Ziomek I found a little ledge to lean on. I close my eyes and I hear voices shouting all around me. Everyone is yelling in an attempt to beat the roaring noise of the crowd. I listen closer and I can make out the far away beating of music, probably from some bar a ways down the street. Thuh-thuh-thuh-thuh. The beat lines up with the footsteps around me and it's hard not to feel overwhelmed. I try to focus on what I smell instead but it isn't pleasant. The smells of alcohol and cigarettes and fish all are melding together to form a repulsive cloud of desperation in the air. It smells like I shouldn't have eaten the chowder I had eaten just five minutes ago. It seemed like a good choice at the time, warm and inviting on my tongue but now the smells and sounds of the current moment have my stomach reconsidering. I reach my left hand back and I can feel the grainy brick which I am leaning against. And once again I feel the beating of the music but