It is that time of night again. Religiously, she finds herself pacing the empty sidewalk. The air is crisp,cold and thick with fog. The sky is black and littered with stars. The beating of her heart, and the gentle inhale of air into her lungs are the only sounds audible.

She doesn’t mind walking in the fog. There is something safe and secure about the enfolding misty air. She can only see a few steps ahead, and each step is taken with anticipation. The mystery of what is behind the wispy veil brings promise. This is a place to regain her thoughts, contemplate her future, unravel and unwind.

It is her sanctuary.

It’s about a quarter till ten, and she squints through the fog and sees the same tall black figure pacing steadily across the street. His gentle footsteps creating an empty echo.

She wonders what aches him. What distresses him so, to where he and her stand parallel with nothing but the cold concrete dividing them. They have shared this corner in this quiet neighborhood for many nights, brought together only by a similar scramble of numbers on their houses. She can’t make out his face from the static blackness. She is surprised that his presence doesn’t threaten her, only surfaces new fascination.

It is so still, that it seems that the leaves will cascade down from their branches with every step of his foot. She is soundless as she glides towards the road that runs along an orchard of oranges. The breeze carries the intoxicating scent of citrus and the night over them.

He starts to cross the street, moving aimlessly in her direction. The moon light reflects its milky glow off of his masculine features. The combination of light and shadow almost makes her feel like she is watching a character in a classic film. He is still unaware of her presence and causally lights up a cigarette. He places his free hand in his pocket and tilts his head back, exhaling.

She leans against the chain link fence, the chill in the air causes her to fold her arms to her chest. This is the closest he has ever been to her, and she feels overly conscious of her own being. She usually ventures further down the gravel path, but tonight she is frozen in place, her eyes locked onto this familiar stranger. She hears the sharp grinding of gravel beneath his feet, and stiffens with each approaching step. Before he completely passes her by, he lifts his head and acknowledges her with a simple nod.

” There is something tranquil about the fog, isn’t there?”

Those are the only words he speaks before he makes his retreat. She watches him walking slowly down the street, appearing then disappearing underneath the street lamp lights.

She feels more connected to this stranger than the people in her closest circle.  During this observation, she uncovered a reflection of herself.

We end up in certain places at particular times to simply observe people. Undeniably, these small observations and interactions will have an impact one way or another. During this moment of realization, she is comforted in knowing that in this world of millions, there is one place of solitude two souls share together.

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