The man across the traffic lights
Between these city lights in this small town, I have never bothered to look clearly at the man I used to see every evening after I head to the residence from work, the skies distract me with its beautiful shimmering beak, the fast moving vehicles creates this excitement in me to chase them, but I wondered why I never bothered this man. We see each other as we stop and wait for the traffic lights to change, He is always on the opposite side waiting to get to this side with his bicycle loaded with packages, he is clearly in his fifty's still strong enough to stand the freezing weather unlike me. I hear him whisper greetings as we pass by when the roads pause for us to walk ahead, I wonder if he can see the smile in my eyes, since am all bundled up in the winter scarf. Hoping he gets the greeting I walk ahead, and this routine goes on day after day.
I don’t know about his whereabouts, neither does he about mine, but I know the walk lasting seconds can bring a smile to the day. Last week, as I was hurrying out of the office to get back home, I saw the man again, but this time on this side of the road, I smiled at him, but he could only return a still stare, I thought to ignore his rude nature today and waited for the traffic lights to change, he was on my side. I was scared of his presence strangely, I thought to walk as fast as I could, he was walking behind me, we were clearly on the same sidewalk, the skies didn't seem any pretty, and all the street lights had to offer was oblivion, my legs felt weak, I wondered if I would ever make it to the residence, he was clearly walking behind me, I think he could feel the uneasiness in my steps, he was saying something, I couldn't hear anything, my ears were blocked from the cold, I decided not to stop but to walk as fast as I could.
His voice turned louder and irritated and I heard the advancing footsteps, he finally stood in front of me, with impatience in his eyes I heard him clearly for the first time, “Hey Miss!! I am not following you, you dropped these!” And he handed me my red mittens covered in flurries, before I could thank him, he walked back with his bicycle loaded with packages. I have never seen him again!