Her Name Took Up More Space Than Expected

Class ended at seven and I was the last one actually putting my notebook away. Not on purpose, I just had a lot of notes tonight and my handwriting got progressively worse toward the end, so I was trying to decode the last two lines before I forgot what they meant. That's when she said something. The person who's always late. She was already in her seat when I looked up, and she asked something simple, I think it was whether we were supposed to read the whole chapter or just through section three, and I told her through section three, and then there was a pause, the kind that could have just been the end of the conversation.

It wasn't. She introduced herself. Nadia. She said it matter-of-factly, not like a formal thing, more like she was just filling in a gap. I said my name back and then we both picked up our bags and walked out into the hallway and that was essentially it. Maybe two minutes total.

I don't know why I keep thinking about it on the walk home. Not in a significant way, I'm not trying to make it more than a Tuesday-night exchange in a community center hallway. It's just that she's been a presence in that room for a couple months now, this consistent latecomer with the same apologetic energy and the same seat, and now she has a name. Nadia. And a name does something. It's harder to just observe someone once you know their name. The plant on my sill put out another leaf this week, which I noticed before I noticed anything else when I got home, which maybe says something.

mid-step, mid-thought.

I keep sitting down to finish the draft. I keep not finishing it. I'm close, I know I'm close, but it's the kind of close that feels like standing at the edge of a pool for too long. At some point you just have to stop counting and jump. Maybe tonight. Maybe I'll just publish it and not re-read it after. That feels like the only way it actually gets done.

the hallway after everyone left.