She sat in the corner of the bar. It was the same every night, a bottle of cheap wine, and no more interruptions for the rest of the night. Everyone knew her face, knew where she sat, but no more than that.
Many tried to befriend her, but she paid them no mind. She was content in her corner and was waiting for someone to arrive.
If someone ever came to sit with her no one was quite sure. After she was settled in her seat she’d effectively disappear. They were busy with their own lives, and couldn’t be bothered any longer, with hers.
Yet, this was precisely how she wanted things to be. She was in plain sight but lost in a sea of people. It made everything she did even that much more astonishing.
She was faceless in this bar, but outside of those doors, she was the voice of a generation, and the leader of a huge social movement.
Rebellion was coming, and even though she was in view of so many, no one knew it was she who pulled the strings.
She drained her glass of wine, sealed the letter she was writing, paid her tab, and let the door close behind her one final time.
Maybe they’d wonder when they saw the news or never saw her in the bar again. Chances were, she she’d soon be forgotten.
But what she’d accomplished in that smoky room wouldn’t be.
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