Personal Space

A woman got into the lift at the last minute, as the doors slid closed, and stood right in front of me, crowding me, invading my personal space without a care. I was, seemingly, so insignificant standing there, that she practically speared my feet with her stilettos as she inhabited the lift. I knew the type, lost in her schedule on her phone, I have worked in corporate long enough to recognise her.

It has been hot and muggy in Melbourne these last few days and she had on a strap dress, cream with a green floral pattern, with a large amount of her shoulder skin bare to the world. So, I imagined myself as a stranger, a deranged shadow in a deserted street, a threat lurking just out of sight. I breathed heavily out of my nose, and since she was standing so close to me, my exhaled breath couldn't help but flow out onto her bare skin.

First, she swatted whatever it was away with her hand, absentmindedly, like one might with a fly. I continued to breathed out onto her skin and she suddenly moved away from me, turning to look at me, as though something evil had touched her skin. I kept a straight face, staring straight ahead, but I could see she was unsettled, unnerved somewhat. Well, that will teach you to show no consideration for other people, I thought, may you take that from this, consideration, but I doubted it somehow. Too busy, I knew the story. Too important. She had moved away from me, however, so job done, I thought.