The Stranger Who Cared

365 Days of Creativity

day twenty five

         I was so absorbed in my own life, I didn't even see the leaves change colour. Fall crept in like a curious atheist into a church. Winter was galloping towards me on the steeds of Sir Jack Frost's army. Here and there a spike of cold would nip at your nose and snap at your heels. The hounds that Frost sent ahead to hunt down his next victims. I used to run, I used to hold onto the hope that summer would last, maybe it would just be a chilly autumn this year. But winter always came. I stopped wishing for things that could not be so. Instead, I bent over and let winter give it to me up the ass like a good little boy.

         This year is happening fast. Rain comes down in sheets and washes away every trace of summer. The cold winds sweep up happy times and blow them halfway across the world. Smiles grow sadder and faces longer. People stretch themselves thin trying to escape the depression of the end of the year. They don't realize that each faked smile chips away at the enamel of their happiness.

        The bench at the park was wet, but I sat anyways. Trying to stay dry in Vancouver was like trying to stay wet in the Sahara. I flicked open a pack of cigarettes and lit one up. The rain that fell was considered a drizzle here. Smoke puffed and swam around the rain drops. The water caught the plume on the way down, washing the chemical residue down to the sewers where moldy toads awaited their nic-fits.

       I watched each drop of rain that landed on my hands. The water formed minuscule rivers and streams as it followed the lines of my skin. I turned my palms face up and let two small pools form in the bases of my lifelines. The liquid overflowed and slowly dripped it's way into my jacket sleeves.

       I didn't hear her footsteps. She sat next to me, sliding in quiet as autumn. A thin white unbrella clutched in her right hand, yet her brown hair hung in soggy strands. I looked at the umbrella. She was holding it over my head, not her own. Her blue eyes, electric as the sun, caught mine for a moment. It was no more than a second, but this perfect stranger cared. Actually cared about me. The sizzling sound of the cigarette hitting the ground echoed in my ears as I stood. I got up and I ran. I ran from this strange girl who cared about me, who actually gave a damn. I ran from the alien sight of human empathy. I ran as fast as I could, winter snapping at my heels.