The Contest

I entered fourth.
In front of me sat a girl with red hair,
Posh and unforgettably original.
To her left was another young woman,
Light pink with dark straightener curls.
I sat next to the boy in bright green,
Which looked more like his father’s clothes.
Next arrived a girl with dragons flying on her ears,
And one on her neck, too.
Then came the one in plain clothes,
Proud and confident.
He’s been here before.
Last entered the silent one,
Blonde, well dressed, average.
I pieced together the bits they revealed,
And delved for an intimation of what they left out,
Fitting myself a compelling back story for each one.

It’s then I fell in love with people again.
Not people, no, I re-fell in love with the idea of people.
The histories we’d always yearn to see.
The stories waiting for a teller.