Writing is the painting of the voice.

– Voltaire, 1764

Feast your eyes on this lovely painting written in  class this week by a talented young writer about to hit the 9th grade. Ladies & Gentlemen…Kakabel Novak. People Watching at Bouchon “Okay, bud, we’ll get the luggage and hit the road, and see you soon!” a man to my left is saying. I wonder where he’s going, and why. Business trip or family vacation? How far? He’s gotten up and left. Now there’s a garbage collector that’s taken up his general space. She ties and replaces bags in the way that you do when you’ve done something long enough to go through the paces mindlessly. Her expression is dull, her mouth makes a soft ‘oh’ when her roll of unused plastic bags falls from her cart. Two ladies a little ways off sip what looks like to be tea from the bistro. The one with lighter blonde hair and a sunhat lifts her empty cup off the table and spins it by its straw. She and her friend might be waiting for someone, or spending time talking as best friends do. A little girl, maybe 8 or 9 years old, passes with what looks to be her mother, and maybe her grandparents, wearing American flag tights. The restaurant has started playing music. There’s heavy cello and the guitar melody makes me want to bounce my leg until the singer starts again with her unclear gibberish. The sound of the fountain passes the time, as I watch people. “..honestly, I honestly thought..” my range of hearing doesn’t let me hear the beginning and end of the sentence of the man in the dark suit as he talks on the phone and passes my table. The men carry themselves like they have someplace to be. All the men are busy and the women are waiting.

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