YVONNE DIDN’T COME
I’m starting with a friendly smile,
I wanna make a good impression. I want to sell myself. I mean my items. They welcome
me nicely and take me to a table with the name ’Katie’ on it. Good start.
My excitment last only until I see
the name on the table next to me: ’Yvonne’. That strikes straight to the heart.
My old friend, Yvonne was gone only a few months ago. We mourned her, wept for
her, now her name is here!
I can’t believe the organisers
arranged this on purpose! I try to stay relaxed, prepare my table, I’m here for
the market after all, but I keep glimpsing the other table, too. I miss Yvonne.
She was the most cheerful, loudest laughing person I had ever known. She always
made me laugh with a joke or an intentionally made funny facial expression. And
now her name is right next to me.
It’s ironic. I know that an entirely
different Yvonne is about to come, still, I feel like I’m waiting for her.
Almost like with this little piece of paper she would assure me that she is coming,
I shouldn’t be worried that I don’t know anybody, she is ready to help because
she always get noticed. I believe comletely that she would do something like
that. I know she would want to help.
Yvonne is late. I’ve been sitting
for an hour next to her empty table. It’s funny that I’m expecting her to come.
If not her, at least the other one. I must meet with another Yvonne to fill
this hole what saddness made in me.
Yvonne didn’t come. After a time
they even take her name from the table. She disappeared now. The time has come
to swap her place for something else. Only I remain with my thoughts and
sadness. I didn’t cheer up, the whole atmosphere was quite heavy during the
whole time. The best part of the day was when I finally got packed and left
that place.
Yvonne. You didn’t come.
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