They are yelling at me.
Not today. I know it’s your right. Just not today.
Vowels are screeching all around me. The pitch of a child with the lungs of squat soprano bellows through her breast and pierces my eyeballs. Hey easy gait dopplers her bellowing so that one woman agitates me repeatedly.
I need coffee. If I could only hear that word amongst the squawking. If only there was a pause and a silence and the sweet ripple of that brown liquid floated to my ears. Only that noise can muffle this pain.
The young girl with the pink, brown, yellow, and white sugar cookies at her head squawks her wears when she sees my gangly tall head with my Gringo baseball cap on. Her pleading eyes search for the respite I gave them just two days ago when I welcomed her sugar calls and rewarded them with coins. Today she second squawks quieter – sensing disdain behind my sunglasses.
Oh poor baby. Yes! Some days, most days, are a yes! I love how you approach me in the street, on the bus, in my house, in a fancy restaurant and offer me your wears. I keep an ear open for you inkling for new and exciting offerings.
Just not today. My head hurts.