Old Faces

The day is October 5^th, the outside is fresh and newly adorn in a much missed sunshine. The library lounge is humid, not as bad as was mentioned in my previous notes, but humid enough to cast an air of stuffiness. The scene before me is quiet, as it has been in days past. To the chair to the right of me aside the seat formally occupied by the man with the brown hair, sits cap. Now without such, she sits lounged back in her plush chair, laptop propped on knees, the white shoes on her feet untied. Beside her, on a large grey desk sits her famous red cap, a plastic container, and a black bag. As she leans lazily upon the chair in the humid scene, one hand scrolls through the laptop, and the other presses against her right temple, from this a lost looking pinky finger juts out and probes the side of her mouth in thought. Across and near the far right corner of the room sits, Jack and Jill. Both sit across one another at another large grey table and work intently on what I can only assume is homework. The grey laptops from last viewing are opened and facing opposite one another, the “siblings” respective dark backpacks lay beside their chairs. Jill has her headphones off but close at hand. Jack has a journal open beside the laptop, and scribbles notes off of an open excel graph. Aside the two a woman in a grey jacket sits on a chair and works on many scattered notes and a singular journal that lay upon one of the red roller desks. To little surprise she pencils in notes from her white phone onto the journal, brown eyes darting back and forth between phone and paper (let’s call her Molly). Directly in front of me now sits a man in plush chair with an untypically straight posture, a red roller desk homes a black laptop, and various white papers before him. To follow in this untypical behavior, the man copies writing from one of the papers onto another, paying little mind to the laptop he must maneuver around to accomplish this (let’s call this man Brooklyn). The time is 3:01, and the copy paste jingle of a cellphone fills the scene. Cap quickly pulls a large cellphone out of a pocket and answers. As quickly as she does this, she files the phone away into her pocket and goes back to the screen of her laptop. As she does this, the woman says something out loud, goes quiet, then says something again. This cycle goes on for the rest of the hour. Meanwhile, Molly seems to have stoped her writing. Looking at her phone for leisure, she leans back deep into her chair. Just then a man listening to music exits through the library. Molly gathers her belongings, slings on a backpack and exits. In Brooklyn’s side of the world I look on to see him leaning closely into his laptop, and then looking back at a paper with writing. He stares while tapping his fingers on one leg, later on his desk. A new woman, dressed in athletic clothes takes Molly’s seat, she, unlike the majority has two backpacks. One she props on the desk, the other beside her. She glances at her phone for a maximum of five minutes and leaves the scene. After, a young woman and older woman exit through the lounge. After this, I see Jack quickly pack up his belongings and exit the scene into the library will little response on Jill’s part. Aside from putting her headphones away, the woman continues to look at her laptop as if nothing has happened. A few minutes after this Jack reenters the scene and pulls out his phone, browsing, standing in front of his sister’s desk. Seeing this, she gestures for him to watch her belongings then darts into the library and emerges not long after. Upon entering the woman packs her things and exits with Jack. Cap, Brooklyn, and I are now the only individuals remaining in the lounge. Cap has been quiet for some time, and as if on cue as I jot down this observation, the woman mutters to herself while scrolling through her laptop.  The young boy from my previous observation now enters (let’s call his Blue Eyes.) and takes a seat almost exactly across from where he sat last, just as before, he sits and sets up a laptop. Followed by Blue Eyes is a large man in a red shirt, he approaches Brooklyn, and the two converse.  As they talk, Brooklyn begins to pack up his belongings, the two leave together, chatting all the way out. Meanwhile Blue Eyes sits plainly in his seat, looking down at a cellphone as opposed to his newly assessed laptop. The time is 3:28, three individuals, two of which carry food walk into the library talking loudly to each other. Upon entering the gang splits and says their speedy goodbyes. Blue Eyes has now put his phone away, and is noticeably now ready for work. He leans forward interntly, eyes scanning his device. The lounge area is silent. The only noticeable noise comes from an assumed young gathering from within the library, from within young voices carry into the studious lounge. The air within seems to have gotten cooler, less humid. Cap bobs her head up and down  and strokes the back of her neck as she reads aloud quietly. A man with a limp exits through the lounge, hobbling uneasily to an automatic door. With three minutes remaining the lounge size has dwindled greatly, Cap is still muttering off to herself, and Blue Eyes is still intently reading.  And so another day of observations comes to an end.