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Untouchable
She was oblivious to her surroundings. Maybe the rain was just a fiction of her imagination. She turns and swirls to the rhythm. The rhythm of her heartbeat. The sound only comprehensible, or maybe even not, to herself. She was smiling. No, she was laughing actually. It was the kind of laughter that exudes so much happiness and bliss so pure it was unreal. One would have thought she could have been an angel from above. But no, she was just another stranger on the street.
Is she really happy? And I don’t mean happiness in the “Yeah I am” way we say when we don’t feel like elaborating. I don’t mean it in the “above average” or “I’m a 6 on a scale of 1 to 10″ way on those questionnaires you answer. I mean real happiness. Pure. Untouched. Undiluted. Whatever you call it. Or maybe there isn’t even an adjective for an emotion so powerful. I guess people who have felt it, don’t need to find a word to describe it. Why say it when you can feel it?
What’s her secret? Or is it just the rain?
It rained heavily today. I was in town and without an umbrella. Seconds later it began to snow. It was a “Are you fucking kidding me?!” moment.
That’s when I saw her.
