They Don’t Know My Name

I walk into a library
tighten the mask around my ears
choose a table in the furthest corner
of the room.
No one comes over.
“Good,” I think to myself.
“It’s good to social distance.”
I say that as if I wouldn’t have distanced myself anyway.
The girl with the braids smiles,
waves.
I nod. Afraid to speak.
She might think I’m friendly and come over.
She carries her book over to the table
on the other side of the room
away from me.
“Good,” I say to myself again.
I don’t feel like discussing the book she has in her hands.
I wonder if she knows how to pronounce the name.
I wonder if she knows the author
is sitting over here in the corner
trying not to be seen.

Published by

Yecheilyah

Yecheilyah Ysrayl is an author, book blogger and poet of black historical fiction and poetry. She also writes inspirational nonfiction and urban fantasy. "I write to restore black historical truth for the freedom of all people." Visit her online at yecheilyahysrayl.com.

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