Sudden Encounters

at the street

Being a saleslady is no easy job. We can also experience the same fatigue and pain as other workers do. We smile a lot, control our intonations-well, of course, for a loud woman like me-and if you're not used to heels, you'll feel like walking on spikes. Coming home late is not new to me. It has its perks though, for a sentimental being such as this woman speaking.

I like to gaze at the stars for relief. If I feel too strangled by life, I just go to my usual playground and ride a swing there until I feel better. But these past few days my neighbors were all getting cautious about this man who lies down at the streets every night. He literally makes the road his bed. Some of them say that he's gone cuckoo, others tell me he's dangerous.

I know I should be careful as well, but I'm the kind of person that doesn't simply believe in what other people say. I have to experience it firsthand, only then can they argue what they tell me. I was raised like that. That's why I got into a lot of trouble growing up. But sometimes, "experiencing it firsthand" isn't all that easy. Just like right now.

From the distance, four streetlights further, a man in jeans and white polo is somehow visible despite the low light. And my neighbors were right, he is lying down the road, sort of. He was in the middle of getting up when I saw him. From the looks of where he was going, I think he was headed to the street where my usual playground was.

Should I feel relieved because he was out of the way, lowering the chances of me being harmed, or feel restless, because he was intruding in my haven, in a way? I was planning to take a stroll there before I slept in today. Guess that won't be happening. I continued to walk until I reached home, slightly defeated. He wasn't here until just a few days ago, creating panic among the neighborhood - he should just return to where he came from.

Few days pass and the talk about the eccentric man seem to have died down. I've also never seen him lying down at the streets again. Maybe he returned to his own neighborhood. That makes my heart at ease. I can finally visit the playground again.

After wearing my pajamas and a sweater over my tank tops, I head to the playground. It's a nice summer night and the skies are clear. Very satisfied to have come again here tonight. The breeze blow away all my worries for a while, and the sound of the trees swishing relieves my head from untangled emotions. What an ideal night.

I sit on a swing, the wind helping me to slightly move my seat and lull me to peace. It's quiet. It's placid. Even when nature is kind of noisy. A relaxing kind of noise. It's the noise that's meant to sound and be heard like that. I don't think I'm making sense anymore. I'll just shut up now.

And stare. Stare at the horizon.

It's the beauty of the what-ifs in the unknown vastness that I'm always looking for. Stars twinkle mysteriously, hiding all things before them.

And I close my eyes. Sealing it shut but still not wanting to sleep.

All of a sudden, I hear a twig crack differently. Aggressively. Out of place. I quickly open my eyes to see what's there. And my jaw drops when my eyes finally grasp the figure.

White wrinkled polo. Blue folded jeans. Beige combat boots. Dark messy hair.

A dead expression.

Shivers travel across my spine and my body freezes, as if I'm afraid that he might attack me if I moved. I know this is the man whom I think he is. And as soon as I realized it, my mind suddenly becomes blank. This is so unexpected. What do I do?

"Um," he utters, startling me. He sighs after seeing me almost jump from my seat. "The stars twinkle but the sun shines over them, don't they?"

I frown. "Excuse me?"