The girl with the book, sitting alone at the bar
Sipping her 16oz glass, head in her pages

A quiet moment, surrounded by strangers
To be alone in your head, but programmed to be present in the normality of reality

To write in a public space but to avoid conversation
But welcome it, when it presents itself

To live without a penalty of, if, things don’t go your way,
Or to have the lines and be able to overthrow them

To meet new friends and be introduced to others

And to find out that we all need a quiet moment
In the middle of strangers