Sitting in the city café

A woman near the window starts crying.

Her friend goes to stand up,

A look of disgust across her face.

“He told me I’m his side chick,”

The crying woman says

Before the other one leaves.

I watch her out the window

As she walks away down the street

The other woman– the side chick- cries for a while and then leaves as well.

I wonder what a side chick is.

The waitress comes and stands beside me

I realise I’m the only one left in the café.

“They didn’t leave any money,”

The woman says.

I look up at her,

She is old, with lines on her face

But still pretty.

Her arm is a sleeve of tattoos, and a tear is tattooed on her cheek.

I start to ask her what a side chick is

But I change my mind and give her twenty dollars.

She talks to me a bit longer,

About the people, she sees every day.

I tell her to keep the change, and she smiles.