She

this is my first in a series on women i have come to know. expect others shortly

It was two thirty after noon. That was about two and a half hours before she sent in her article (or hoped to) and precisely one hour and forty five minutes after she had had an experience for the countlessth time.
The experience was that of treading in shallow waters one has known for long. One knows where the rocks lie, and where the ground slopes. One is aware of the leeches and the current. One recognizes when enough is enough, and where to step out from. One recognizes each ripple – that extends itself to smile, frown or generally linger on.
Once, she had reached deep into these waters. She had thumped about them with hands and legs, making waves; splashed them around, drenching herself; even gone under to blow out bubbles that she would watch disappear.
But once was once gone, and she would not touch them today. Smile would be met with smile, frowns looked through. Those that lingered would be left. Yet she could not stop the ripples.
They had emerged with every step she took. They had emerged when she waded. They had stood still when she had, waiting for her to move… so they may spread out, hold hands and mock her with a joint smirk.
They would put distance in between her and them, and dare her to reach out, they thought. Then she would stoop and thrash them out to make them disappear. She would drench herself again, to make the waves she once did. She had walked out of the water with eyes wide shut. As parting shot, she would fling in a pebble.
She stretched, staring at her laptop screen. Head cocked, frown intact, wondering what she would make of an empty word page today.
Click Click, Click Click Click, Click Click… the words flew effortlessly. She was telling of a place she had been to for a hundred years. Full stops were cursory, commas a custom. Generations born between lines, yet alike. She pursed her lips at some point, screwing her eyebrows further, then let go. She finished article calmly, her reflection unrippled.
Then shutting her laptop she hopped over to her mirror to make faces at it. If she was six, she would not have to see those she didn’t want to see. If she was six, she wouldn’t be a thousand years old.