Aesthetic ~ 1
California, June 26th, 1982
Afrika holds the denim jacket against her form, absently checking the way the faded blue shimmers against the brown of her skin. Even in this cheap thrift shop it was pretty pricy so with a little sigh she puts it back on the shelf, taking one last glance as she moves on. Her gaze rakes the endless expanse of colorful clothing, skipping from one thing to another, then back again. She briefly wishes she has the funds to fund the more creative part of her personality, but for now a couple pieces of clothing would have to do.
A blast of hot air hits her as the curtain opens to let in more customers--a pregnant black lady with a little boy in tow. Afrika exchanges a pleasant smile with her from across the room before she turns her eyes away.
She strolls out of the clothing isle, walking into the book section. It was of vast quantity, filled to the brim with all kinds of books. A few catches her eye with titles like "A Slaves Remembrance" and "The Cotton Field". She adds those to the bundle in her arms. Glancing at her wrist tells her that it was time to start walking back home so she mentally calculates the total, preparing to leave.
As she was walking to the front of the store, out of her peripheral vision she sees something sticking out between two thick books, looking out of place next to the novels. Afrika deters and takes a few steps closer to the shelf, shifting her bundle of objects. When her right hand was free, she reaches and pulls it out slowly, eyes widening as she locks on the black and white colors.
It was a Michael Jackson album, Off The Wall to be exact, and it looked to be in relatively good shape. Michael was leaning against a brick wall, feet spread apart with hands adjacent from his waist, smiling brightly. To her it seemed like he was gloriously happy and perhaps he was--it makes her adore the picture even more.
She pulls the album all the way out and holds it in front of her face, surveying every inch. With a decisive inhale, she adds it to the pile in her arms before turning and walking briskly to the check out counter. As the man rings up her purchases--a few pairs of jeans, a button up shirt and some converses including the Michael Jackson album, she battles with the feeling of guilt, telling herself it was good to splurge on something once in a while.
Paper sack now in her arms Afrika leaves the thrift store, immediately getting hit with a wave of heat. Placing one foot after the other, she walks down the sidewalk, idling at the bus stop. Reading the times listed below, she sees that she just missed the last bus and the next one wouldn't come for another hour. She needs to get home now.
She actually tries to stand beneath the stop but with the heat getting to her and the cars that were honking at her, she was regretting even coming out at all today. Tightening her arms around the paper sack, Afrika turns on heel and starts the two mile walk home.
*
Sweat pouring down her head and sliding under her shirt while making itself at home between her breast is what almost breaks her. However, her sack practically ripping in half is what breaks her. She frowns in frustration and cedes walking, looking down at the ripped bag. Half of it was soggy due to her sweat easing into it and it was really useless at this point.
"Oh my--" Afrika cuts herself off, blinking back tears. She pouts to herself for a moment before sucking it up and slowly resuming walking, holding the sack like a baby.
Her half torn bag was bundled tightly in her arms as she walks down the barren street, hating this part of the way. There was literally no one around for the next mile aside from the automobile here and there. It was so desolate.
