a “knowledgeable” perspective
They were going to come for her any day now. She had spent too long guessing, presenting opinions as facts. She had spent too long sitting in the same pub window seat, day after day, and they were angry. They said she was blaspheming the government. They said she was lying. They said she had never said a true word in her life.
She entered into discourse frequently, her opinions taken without consulting sources. Her answers were not carefully curated scripts like those of the actually knowledgable professors she debated with, and most people would say she had no knowledge about the things she discussed.....or maybe she had all the knowledge.
She sat at that same table in the window of the Lamb & Flag. A group of students came in, coat collars unfurled about their mufflers in a vain attempt to keep out the same chilly Oxford air which now whispered its way through the pub before the door shut. She did not shiver but drew the long gray sweater more tightly about her body.
A student glanced her way and frowned. She kept her face expressionless, staring at the mug of coffee on the table before her. ".....idle words," she heard him mutter to his friend. "Words but never action."
Suddenly she felt like getting out of there. She was disgusted with them, all of them. Everyone who blackened her name when she turned her back. So what if they had a bad opinion of her, thought she was all words and no action. It was about time she moved out of there anyways.
She got up and made for the door, deserting the half of a cup of coffee left steaming in her mug. Already stone cold, it was all that the police found two minutes later.