That Elegant Lady

That fast food restaurant is not so busy in such a middle of the day. There that elegant young lady comes, slamming her car’s front door at the parking lot, to the attention of the customers’ observing eyes. It’s a funny sighting people unlikely see everyday: she wears a businesswoman-look working suit but bringing a little black camera bag on her shoulder while her hands are full with gadgets, piece of clothes and keys, rushing to the cashier, making orders. Soon after she pays for chicken and fries she chooses a table on the balcony, much to the amazement of those eating customers inside, since it is another warm day in August.

On the table she carefully sets the clothes and pulls out her camera. Not just another tourist’s mini camera but the pro one. She doesn’t look like she’s able to use it, some watchers whisper. But she can. She makes ten or twenty photographs of the clothes, arranging the placement, the configuration, the shape, how it curls, how it forms, the most perfect shape she can think of best. She stands, she sits, she leans her body, holding her camera, doing any positions.

Her meal is coming and she never touches them until she finishes making photographs. The chicken is tasteful. The fries are a bit salty, but yummy, since she is hungry, after all.

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