portrait Monologue

Section 1

There is a comfort in knowing my place.

Section 2

The lines here are gentle. I know how to move within them. How to nod, to smile, to keep my voice soft and my opinions softer.

Section 3

And yet… there are days when the air feels too still, when the laughter drifting nearby stirs something restless inside me.

Section 4

 I find myself thinking of the young woman on the blanket-her book forgotten, her head thrown back in careless laughter, as if no one’s watching.

Section 5

How easily I envy that freedom, that abandon. How quickly admiration turns to envy in this world of ours, how a single misstep can become a quiet scandal.

Section 6

 I have seen it happen-the whispered words that stain a reputation, the way one moment can unravel years of careful composure.

Section 7

Still… what is the point of this carefulness, if it leaves me always on the edge of things?

Section 8

I want, just once, to feel the warmth of the sun without the shield of my parasol, to speak to someone not because it is expected, but because I wish to know them. To be more than a figure in the background.

Section 9

And then there’s the child nearby, struggling to gather her scattered flowers while her mother is caught up in conversation.

Section 10

No one moves to help. I wonder-what if someone sees? What if it’s improper?

Section 11

But the longing to act, to step out of line, feels stronger than my fear.

Section 12

Maybe people will notice. Maybe they won’t.

Section 13

But for once, I did what felt right, not just what was expected. And somehow, that feels like enough.