Random Short Stories

A Mime

I did my normal routine. The crowds always poured in around 8:00 AM. With any luck, someone might buy me breakfast. I was trapped in my box. My perfect little box. I was on a small street corner, just by a bakery and under the shade of a great tree, what kind, I didn't know. This was all I could remember. Me performing on a street corner, trapped in my invisible box. I awoke every morning without a single wrinkle in my clothes, a single knot in my hair, or a single bit of missing makeup. I can faintly recall a time where I used to bang on the walls, try to scream. People would stop and laugh. "Just a Mime in a box! How funny!" I soon learned that I could earn some money if I tried funnier things. I had a small blanket for when it was colder and I'd use it as a rag and clean the pristine glass that are the walls of my invisible box. The baker who was nearby was a kind man, and would give me any leftover bread that hadn't sold that day when he was closing up. Every day I would wake up and wait for the crowds to come. Everyday I fought for survival. I'd make a little money each day. Sometimes people might leave me a snack.
This day however, was different from all the others. I started noticing lately that at the same time every day a nice man would stop and watch for a while. Every day he'd get closer, maybe give a dollar or two. Some days he'd buy a cookie and leave it in my hat. Soon I started motioning to him, and would incorporate him into my routines. He'd laugh. Whenever I was performing, we'd sometimes make eye contact. I would always smile and look away quickly as I felt the hot blood rushing to my white-painted cheeks. Sometimes, once the crowds had left, he'd sit with me and would talk about his day. I'd nod approval or feign shock if something bad would happen. We soon grew close, well as close as one could get with a nonspeaking Mime. We soon had little inside jokes, consisting of funny mistakes that would happen. We'd laugh as I performed them again to my special audience of one. I got used to this routine. This happened for a year. Our connection grew. It started with a bit of flirting, progressing to our first kiss. Our love grew. Everyday our routine continued, our lives progressed. One day however, I noticed he started coming a little later each day and he wouldn't stay as long. He would stop laughing at our jokes and would give a terse description of his day. He soon stopped staying in the evenings. He would watch for a while, but wouldn't participate when I tried to include him. One day he would only stay for a minute. And then he stopped coming. I waited for him. He never came back. And the next day I woke up to continue my normal routine.