Observation and Implication

This piece is the second assignment for the course The Craft of Character, the third course out of five in Wesleyan University’s creative writing course aimed for NaNoWriMo participants on Coursera. The instruction:

Go to a public place or local spot. Observe other people’s behavior, especially odd or intriguing acts. Create a character and put them in this place. Give them two traits: a behavior you observed and a negative trait about yourself. Now, write 300-600 words describing the character in the context of the place without writing anything directly about the character. In fact, write as if the character is not even present at the place during the time you’re writing it. Try to allow the reader to discover both of the character’s traits indirectly. This assignment is about implication, about leading the reader to see the character without directly describing him/her. For example, you might describe a handbag left behind, the contents of which show your character’s preferences and avoidances, longings and dislikes.

Vanish

The café is small and well lit, with wooden furniture and power outlets available every few feet on the wall. It’s around ten AM; the morning crowd has dwindled away, and the lunchtime crowd has yet to arrive. At the corner furthest from the entrance is a small table with two chairs. On one, is a handbag: blue, faux leather, the edges by the seams already peeling. It is unzipped, and half-stuffed in it is a plastic bag from a convenience store, a receipt for a black pantyhose in it. Peeking out from the outside pocket is a lanyard from a tech startup, the brand brightly colored and freshly printed. On the table in front of the chair, half a bottle of clear nail polish from a cheap drugstore brand, the cap not quite screwed tight.

To the right, the other chair is pressed back to the wall, unoccupied. In front of it is a laptop, thin and light, the silver case shining dully. It is state-of-the-art, high specs and touchscreen, optimized for performance and mobility. The screen flashes a slideshow of pictures: a family photo, smiling around a dining table laden with Chinese cuisine; a calico cat and a ginger cat, asleep, curled around each other; a beach sunset. A silicone cover protects the keyboard. To the right of the laptop, a tall clear glass. Condensation drips down its side, forming a ring of moisture around the bottom. A white plastic straw stands leaning in it, the top end chewed-up. A burgundy lipstick stain serves as a border between the ruined end and the rest of the straw. Whatever drink used to be in the glass is now replaced with melting ice and, inexplicably, ketchup. The straw wrapper lies in a pile of torn-up confetti next to the glass. A broken pink hairband rests next to it. The menu, a thin cardboard paper folded into three parts like a leaflet, lies open, displaying a list of drinks and desserts.

A phone lies on the menu, connected to a charger plugged to the nearest wall. The screen lights up silently as notifications pop up: seven missed calls. Two missed WhatsApp calls. 132 unread messages on WhatsApp. New email, subject: Deadline. New email, subject: Where Are You? The notifications vanish, pushed away by an incoming call. Unknown caller. The answer button on the screen pulsates as seconds pass. The caller eventually gives up. Eight missed calls.

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