A Pedestrian Regret

This morning, I saw someone who was achingly beautiful. She was neither feminine nor masculine, but an alluring blend of both. I use the pronoun ‘she’, purely for convenience.

She sat on a lonely bench ringed by trees. I stood on the other side, unobserved, struck by the perfection of her profile. She was delicately built, with shoulder length black hair. Her long tapering fingers rested on a green handbag. Her visage was all hard angles. Pale, creamy skin, stretched over chiseled bones. I put on my spectacles. As the world came into sharp focus, her quivering lips and tear stained cheeks, drew me in. Unable to to resist, I stepped off the sidewalk. Her face suddenly contorted into an expression of profound grief. I stopped, frozen in my tracks. What could possibly have caused her such pain? Whatever the reason, I wanted it destroyed and wiped off the face of earth. A shiver ran down my spine. I stood there, blinking in surprise.

She got up with feminine grace and started walking away with the loose limbed gait of a man. I wanted to reach out and touch her shoulder. ‘Are you alright?’ I wanted to ask her. ‘It will be okay. Don’t cry.’ I wanted to tell her. I didn’t. Instead, I watched as her back grew smaller.

That was the sensible thing to do. I’m glad I didn’t invade her privacy. However, at that moment I was struck by fleeting regret, What if….?

 

Tree