The Shoes Part II

Upon entering the library she stopped and asked the security guard what was going on over the weekend as she was new to town.  The guard adjusted his blue shirt, leaned forward and in a raspy voice tole her about the Fair.  Making a mental note, she decided she would try to attend as it sounded fun.

Continuing forward in her pretty shoes she entered the lobby of the library.  She was glad to be out of the sun and wind and the air conditioning felt good.  Walking across the lobby she glanced at the books on display.  One of her favorites, The Peoples History by Howard Zinn sat on the second shelf.  Making her way to the elevators she got on and pushed the button for the 4th floor.

The 4th floor was always her first stop.  It was a room full of round tables with Dell displays.  After reading her emails she headed back down the elevator to the coffee shop.  At the cafe Samantha ordered her usual, an iced Americano.  Taking a sip of the cold liquid she reveled in the bitter taste of the coffee.  Taking her coffee to go she walked outside.  Walking down 13th she headed for Santa Fe and the art walk.  Her new shoes carrying her smoothly across Speer to the sidewalk.  Once on Santa Fe she headed towards the art district.  The wind was picking up and she was still hoping it wouldn't rain.

It was still early so she decided to get something to eat.  Entering a Mexican restaurant that promised authenticity, she ordered an azada taco.  She sat in a booth with orange, green and yellow seats that looked out on to the outdoor patio.  Biting into the taco, the warm spicy meat tasted heavenly.  The restaurant started to fill with people who had the same idea of eating before viewing art.  Hippies with pony tails, girls with tattoos and men and women with gray hair all cam and went.  It was getting noisy, in the back someone pounded out tortillas and people were speaking in English and Spanish making it impossible to eavesdrop.

Fat Tire: Part 1

She sat on a bench in the shade, sheltering her from the scorching sun.  Her skirt moved gently up and down in the warm wind.  Staring straight ahead at the public art in the shape of red Ys she thought to herself "Yeah why?"  That's when she saw him.

He stood in the shade next to the library, cigarette in his mouth.  He put down the cigarette long enough to take a swig from his drink.  He looked right at her and their eyes met.  She quickly turned her head to stare at the Ys again and thought "Why?"  He took another drag from his cigarette and disappeared around the corner of the building.  All she saw was his long black wavy hair and then he was gone.  She knew it was him.  She recognized his goatee and he always wore khaki pants.

Getting up from the bench she quickly shoved her book into her backpack and walked towards Santa Fe street.  She wasn't going to wait around for him.  Once on Santa Fe she headed south, passing by art galleries, photo labs and Mexican restaurants.  Craving a beer she stopped at one with an outdoor patio.  The cold beer tasted good in the dray heat.  A couple passed by pushing a baby stroller.  The woman wore a green tank top and an old blue scarf on her head.  Her husband pushed the baby protected from the sun by a light blanket.

It was 4 o'clock and she was almost finished with her beer.  Wanting to take the train back home she emptied the bottle and paid her bill.