The Red Tent by Melissa Dennison

The cup warms her hands, whilst cappuccino chocolate melts on her tongue. She sees a red tent opposite the bookshop. It is out of place amongst the shoppers, pubs and festive wreaths.

A young man in a grey hoodie climbs out. He shakes out a blanket and places this on the damp pavement, along with a cardboard cup.

Before long a community warden is approaching. They begin talking. The young man looks agitated, waving his arms around, gesticulating. It’s probably just a few minutes but it seems longer. The warden takes out his phone. She assumes to summon help. As she sips her coffee, she notices the young man looks upset. He is wiping his eyes with his sleeve.

She feels a complex range of emotions; empathy, anger; fear and frustration.  She feels powerless, but then what can she do? How will the young man react if she goes over to help? What if he is unstable?

A plate glass window is all that separates them, but their lives are poles apart. Here she is sitting in a warm, dry, bookshop. Festive songs are playing in the background, along with sounds of chatting customers and laughter. The young man is vulnerable and alone,  unloved, sitting on a cold wet pavement, being pressured to move on.

She pulls herself away, feeling unsettled and ashamed. Looking at her cup, all that remains is a frothy line around the rim and the dregs. She drinks these up, gets her coat and leaves.

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