To: Girl crossing the street
From: Phil
Date: July 23, 2006 6:15 PM
Subject: None

I was driving home and I caught you crossing the street.

You had blonde hair and a bit of a depressed look about you, but you reminded of someone I once knew so well — right down to the slump in your shoulders and the way you walked. I couldn’t help but stare. You were dressed in a light purple top, a knee length skirt, and high heels. And you were damn uncomfortable.

I could tell you were itching to go home, kick off that skirt and those heels, and slip into your old jeans and sneakers. You made an ill-attempt to adjust your skirt discreetly, but only after you slipped three times and nearly rolled your ankle. I wondered for whom you decided to get all dressed up for.

When you made it to the other side of the street and onto the grass, you kicked off your heels, hefted a big sigh of content, and began marching home barefoot.

Behind me, the middle aged woman in the Toyota honked twice. And I was off.

Phil