Here To See You
Flash Fiction by Gessy Alvarez
It's my first public reading at grad school. I'm reading my piece with confidence to a crowd of fifty. I'm reading a section of my strongest short story so far. My writing workshop professor is sitting in the crowd. He looks around the room as if trying to gauge the audience members' reactions to the piece I'm reading. I focus on the words on the page, letting each detail flow like a song. I'm not reading the entire thirty-page story—just a scene. Two young women running an illicit retail operation from their one-bedroom apartment, selling knock-off designer jeans to their female neighbors. I read a section and look up at the crowd, then look back down at the page. I do this up and down until I get to the end of the scene. When it's over, I say thank you and sit down, and the nerves rattle down my body. I try to relax and not think about what I just did for the first time. Friends greet me after the reading. I'm surprised to see some of my fellow classmates. I ask one classmate why she's there, and she laughs. "I'm here to see you," she says. I feel baffled but smile. I hope what she has said is true.