I didn't even see her face

Her

How many people do we see daily and never think about again? I'm sure we come across so many faces every day and never manage to bump into them again, or maybe we do and just don't happen to realise.
Its been said that we can't imagine faces or make up new people in our heads, so in amongst our dreams, the people we imagine actually have the faces of people we have already seen but just don't really remember. We have subconsciously made some random in a supermarket one of our arch-dream-nemisis or that man at the deli our future husband. How odd that we cant imagine a face and that we believe we have never seen someone before in our dreams yet probably see them unknowingly once a week.

However on the 24th of January 2015, this one woman managed to sidestep this one major rule of dreams. When you look at people, I often believe that 78% of the time the first thing you look at is their face or in that direction. Following this belief, the first thing I happened to see when I glanced upon this woman was her white-ish hair. Just past her shoulders and spectacularly straight. I could only imagine how many times a year she would have to have it re-dyed in order to stop the horrendous regrowth that would occur.
I honestly don't remember much else about her clothes other than the fact she was wearing a singlet and shorts. It may have even been a short dress, but my eyes were then immediately drawn to her incredibly strange shoes. They were white and extremely high. If I was a shoe designer I would have believed that an ankle strap was missing and wouldn't have allowed for people to buy them or for it to be sold due to it not being inline with OH&S rules and regulations. Yet there she was parading up a large hill wearing these shoes.
Her hair was flowing behind her whilst she hiked up the street and her skin was relatively tanned for having such blond/white, yet we could not see her face. This one fact made me restless. She was a mystery. I aimed to see her face to determine her age or just to determine who she was, yet whilst in the car she seemed to be out walking us. Damn traffic lights. She turned the corner before I got a glance at her face.

I suppose she will always be a mystery and I will never manage to glance at her again. Her face can never be imagined or thought up or appear in my dreams unknowingly and only someone else's face can temporarily be hers. I'm sure that if I accidentally run into her in the street I will not even know its her despite the fact that this chapter is dedicated to her.

Dear woman, if it is you reading this, please tell me, so that you are no longer remain a mystery.
A x