She walked in my train

She walked in my train at 34th street. She stood by the pole, involved into her reading. She was reading a book called "waiting to exhale". She was tall, 6 feet. She was blonde, short hair. She was there. I looked at her. She didn't see me. I could have not even been there!!! She would have never realized my presence. She got off at my same stop. We walked together in the same crowd. She cut in front of me at the stairs. I caught up with her at the corner light. I glanced at her. She crossed the street with red. I didn't want to stay behind. I rushed right behind her, fortunately no cars were near. I walked with her and another blonde short woman. Twenty five feet later, there was only the two of us. She saw me finally from the corner of her eye. She looked at me. I looked at her. I caught my breath, I was waiting to exhale. I finally said "hi". She turned around and smiled ........... She went into a store. I didn't know whether or not to wait outside. I decided to walk slowly towards my destination. I kept turning around but I didn't see her come out. I continued walking..................................

I have never forgotten her face, her stature, her smile. I have been taking the same train, at the same hour, for years now. I have never seen her again. I don't know her and I have this peculiar sense of loss. I now know that I will never see her again, and what's worse, I am beginning to believe that it never even happened. ............

ACD
Sept, 1993