Somehow, I have managed to injure myself. The calf muscle on my left leg and the sole of my left foot, at strange intervals, throb. I assume this has to do with my cycling, but I don’t know why? I probably should go to the doctor. And I will. I just suspect that it is going to end up in a referral and basically take enough time for the problem to work itself out.
Please don’t worry. I am not writing the above to elicit sympathy. I just want you to understand my state of mind and the physical stress I was under when Today’s Perfect Moment happened. They say everything happens for a reason, that minor events somehow choreograph the big events in life. In my own way I believe this is true.
I left work and started on my trek to the nearby subway station. On most days this is a jaunt, a lark, a hop skip and a jump if you will. For the last three days this has been anything but. My legs and sole (not soul) were fine while I worked, clocking in 6000 or so steps. When I hit the pavement outside, with a purpose, things changed and it became a trek.
I was considering stopping off at a local book reseller (not all of it is used, some of it is overstock), but after those agonizing steps, it just didn’t seem like a good idea. So I headed to the subway entrance.
Just at that moment, a pale waiflike figure appeared. Perhaps she came out of the subway entrance I was heading for. Perhaps, she came from the Italian cafe. Perhaps, she came from somewhere else. (No, no cheesy and cliché perhaps she came from heaven sentences). I must confess that in my agony, I missed her entrance.
She walked with grace, her back straight. Her eyes were shielded from the world by reddish orange tinted glasses, forcing me to imagine them. Hr head, held high covered in a hat that Audrey Hepburn would have approved of.
Before you grumble and point out that there are a vast number of beautiful women out there, and that my singling out of one is rather unfair, I will agree to the supporting points of your argument. On a given day, I cross paths with hundreds of attractive and interesting women. Therefore, there must be something about the few who grace these pages. If I an unable to do that, blame my writing, not the event. Rest assured, I do not take Perfect Moments lightly.
As for this woman, who crossed my path while I was grimacing from the pain and needed to stop and wait for it to subside, there was indeed something that I find hard to describe. What struck me most, and what made the rest of the world, with its cacophonic eruptions and multicoloured lights and patterns fade into the background, was her black dress, adorned at the waist by a red sash. It was not the garish sash of a bridesmaid’s dress, but more like a ribbon on an elegant gift. The effect was mesmerizing.
I reached down to massage the spasm out of my calf for a brief moment… and she was gone. I craned my head, hoping to catch one last glimpse…. but she was gone.
I trudged down the stairs one painful step at a time. By the time I reached the subway platform, I was no longer sure she had been there at all.