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…

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