Fidgeted.
She stood completely mobile, fixated on the wandering train of thought that had driven her head all day. She tapped her foot on the pavement, her toe planted firmly on the cement, heel rising and landing unconsciously. Her fingers tugged at the seams of her worsted blue blazer, flickered over the rivets at her denim pockets, then darted up to smooth down rogue eyebrows. They repeated the motions in succession, cycling up and down in a deviant game of head and shoulders, knees and toes. She was perturbed by the nothing that had filled her all morning, grieved by the fact that now, at four o’clock in the afternoon, it had not faded, but rather, grown.
—by me.
