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Across the street.
Through the front doors.
Up to the counter to order a spiked chai with a drizzle of chocolate.
A cozy seat with my drink, close enough to the stage to enjoy the music, but tucked away enough to not be bothered.
You did it.
You’re here.
I allowed myself a private smile about this silly ass “accomplishment” before I resumed my usual people-watching, only up close this time.The Heightswas a majority Black neighborhood, andUrban Grindattracted a pretty diverse subsection of that – all ages, interests, economic levels, whatever.
Without even…trying.
It was nice.
It wasreallynice, actually.
Especially when I found myself swaying along to the live music, really enjoying it.
This felt good.
The throng of bodies, the loud music, the sweet stench of marijuana faintly mingled with liquor… I couldn’t say it was necessarily familiar, but it was comforting. For the first time in a while, actually, there was an unmistakable feeling of ease lightening the usual tension in my shoulders, as I raised my chai to my lips, taking it all in.
Feeling bizarrely guilty about it.
Being comfortable and relaxed, enjoying yourself… those things didn’t keep you alive – apprehension and vigilance did.
But… I hadn’t been able to exercise eventhoseparticular muscles as well as I’d have liked over the past year. Though an argument could be made that my persistent caution had kept me safe from the usual harm that came along with my former profession… a somewhat opposite case could be made as well.
A case that I was overthinking this shit.
Because no matter whatcouldhave happened, if I’d done this thing or that thing differently, the fact was that… there had been no bump in the night.
No one had come for me.
There was no bounty on my head.
No one fucking cared.
For a different woman, that could’ve been a blow to the ego, but for me, there was a certain freedom in that.
The freedom to sit in a crowded, semi-dark coffee house listening to live neo-soul music that was – despite being embarrassingly cozy – actually…reallygood.
The freedom to just… enjoy myself.
“Pretty bitch like you shouldn’t be sitting here alone.”
Shit.
Perfection never did last very long, huh?
I kept my face blank as I turned to the man who deemed himself significant enough to interrupt my solitary vibe. Not that it mattered how he looked, what he might have to offer, what-the-fuck-ever.
I wasn’t on that right now.
Especiallynot for a man withthathaircut.
