Mannequin

A crowd was gathered outside the tailor’s shop. I found myself drifting towards it, to see what they were looking at.

In the window were mannequins, dressed in the fine fabrics. I noticed that one was laying down, just off centre.

“I saw him fall,” the lady standing next to me said. “I saw him.”

I looked closer at the mannequin on the floor.

It wasn’t a mannequin.

It was the owner of the shop, materials strewn around him. Silk scarves. A Burbury hat. A jacket was covering his face, where it must have landed when he fell.

“Has anyone called an ambulance?” I asked the people standing around me. “Has anyone checked to see if he’s okay?”

No one answered; standing there, unspeaking.

The shop was in darkness except for a single light at the back. In the door, the closed sign hanging there.

“I saw him fall,” the lady said to the latest person to join the crowd. “I was the first to see him,” she said, peering into the window.

vss #12