I don’t want to turn around. I want to look at that street forever.

Excuse me miss, a shy sounding voice of a young man calls from behind. I don’t turn, I stay where I am, motionless.

“Yes,” I say, trying to disguise a sniffle.

Did you recieve bad news, or something?

“You’re a psychic, I bet,” I say roughly, pushing my sunglasses back up the ridge of my nose.

No, the voice replies. You just look like you’ve been slapped with some shocking news.

I stay silent, eyes unmoving from the street.

You’ve been standing there for almost a half hour, staring.

“And you care why?”

I’m sorry, it’s none of my business. I just had a similar experience once…or three times. If you can’t relate to someone, then the experience is much harder to deal with.

“Just like it’s easier to deal with something if you talk about it first?”

Exactly. Why can’t it just be easy to de-complicate everything?

I smiled. Sometimes strangers had the best wisdom.

I turned around.