shorthand

Egypt was in the midst of a revolution, attempting to overthrow a president whose name begins with "M." She could never remember his full name, although she'd read a lot of articles and sometimes listened to the news. America had never had an issue with presidency, at least not in the way of revolution. Some would argue for the Civil War, but she could think only of when their first black president was elected, and his approval rating was somewhere between free beer and pictures of baby pandas.

The New York Times was running a breakdown article about the situation in Egypt, and she approached it halfheartedly, knowing that she couldn't bring herself to care about the politics. She stared at a picture of thousands crowded into Tahrir Square and zoomed in until she could see their faces. Immediately, she was near tears. Many figures smiled up at her, more frowned, some held cameras, and a few had flags. She couldn't bear the thought of so many lives; she could scarcely fathom that all these people had dreams, fears, families, pasts, memories. The crowd stood close together, their dreams fighting for space as shoulders pressed against shoulders. The faces continued with their lives, unaware that she watched their frozen image.

She left her bed to shut the window shade, near tripping as she rose. The shade flashed past two dirty streaks from the night she had cried for three hours straight because she thought herself pregnant. She'd pressed her salty cheeks against the panes as she stared into the darkness. It had snowed that night, which muffled the world so that even the passing train streaked by silently. Two weeks later, she still hadn't been able to clean the window.

She returned to her bed, slower this time, staring again at the picture of Cairo. She thought of the salt streaks on her window, and she thought of her country's president, wondering vaguely what he was doing. She hoped that he was kissing his wife. Her hand raised to touch her mouth, lightly, and she finally made herself close the article.