Sitting outside the cafe, drinking my inexpensive designer coffee, I like to watch the world busy itself around me. Pondering the lives of those that pass me by.
It was then my gaze fell upon a young girl seated in doorway. Her hair was once a golden brown, clothes clean not all dirty and torn. Her face portraying the hard times endured.
As I looked into her eyes, they were filled with pools of sorrow. They’d witnessed things one so young should not have seen. Guilt racked me for the coffee held as I walked away.
I’ve never returned to that cafe on a morning, for fear of seeing the despair within the young girl’s eyes. They haunt me still as I think of her life, when I see all that I have.