Vignette 8

The light of the slide projector blinded me as I looked out into the crowd. I stood at the podium, reading notes that described a bird's eye view of the coastline. One face in the back disappeared before I could see if it was you. You were nowhere in the crowd. My thoughts escaped the room, chasing the tremble of the subway below and latching onto the radio news reporter's voice that had informed the public about the quake in Chile. Background thoughts made my words stumble as they escaped my lips. The faces before me had no history for me. The newness and the namelessness made the group of people look like shadows. After my speech, I turned the lights off to blot out their faces and exited the room.