I saw the woman I met while frying today at the corner of the avenue during the weekly farmer’s market. We smiled and waved at one another as friends would but I could feel my eyes widen with surprise at such explicit recognition of her soft, blue eyed face.
I first encountered her clustered in a small group huddled around a tent where an older man sat with a collection of his sun dried seaweed creations.
I settled beside her introducing myself and Bryan, asking for directions to the park. I believe her name was Skye. It suited her because she had eyes as clear as the sky above her. She held my interest far more than her companions had.
I struggled to string together words; my vocal chords had frozen, my lips left soft as jello., eyes wide, and brain teleporting in and out of reality as we spoke. She seemed as intrigued to learn of the psychedelic trip we had embarked on as I had been intrigued to see her friend had picked up Kurt Vonnegut’s “Timequake”. We briefly discussed Vonnegut and his work-I made some recommendations-and the recent passing of my birthday.
The older man then gifted me a small dried seaweed heart wrapped in red wire. (I still have it today. It sits on my desk as a bittersweet reminder.)
If only she knew of the events that followed after that chance encounter that day, would she still smile at me?