It was dusk on Curlewis Street, a cool wind blew from the sea down the road, and I was smoking on the pavement facing the road but with my mind elsewhere. I’d just got back from Melbourne, where I had reconnected with old friends, explored the bustling city after lockdown and drank far too much. Filled with the strange melancholy feeling, with elements of nostalgia and tiredness that you get after a great trip away, I couldn’t tell you if cars were driving past or what time it was, as my mind was miles away.
Filled with an empty longing, I heard the clip-clopping of a woman’s high heels further down the road which interrupted my thoughts and brought me back to the present moment, where I noticed I was looking at the gutter. I turned and glanced toward the sound and saw the distinct curves of a woman wearing a tight white dress, with long brunette hair and a slim build walking toward me. I could tell she was attractive but not wanting to stare I continued facing the road smoking.
I got a tap on my shoulder and turned and it was the woman in white. I took in her blue eyes dancing, her mid twenties youthful face, her figure, smelt her expensive perfume and saw her bright smile as she asked me if I was celebrating. I asked celebrating what? She said the Melbourne Cup, I said no I’m not a gambler, but asked if she won and she said yes and asked for a hug. So I hugged her. Then she said it was her birthday so I hugged her again. She looked at the sky, her eyes still dancing and said isn’t it beautiful? It was quite overcast and dark with no stars out and the moon hidden but I shrugged in agreement. She then said isn’t the world beautiful? I said yes it is, staring deeply in love into her face.
Just like that, in a blink of an eye, before I had had a chance to say anymore, she turned on her heels and said she had to go and join her friends. Clip-clopping in her high heels up the road, disappearing into the night. It was as if the brief interaction had never happened and part of me wondered if it did happen at all. I smiled to myself about the honesty and intimacy that happens during interactions with strangers that you sometimes don’t even get with your closest friends. I’m 39 years old, was unshaven, wearing a dirty grey Lonsdale jumper with the hood up and jeans, smoking and a lone male figure hidden in the dark, and this woman spotted me and took my gaze from the gutter up to the stars, showing she trusted me in that moment to share her euphoria.
I was still smiling when I got to my room. I didn’t need to get her number, or go on a date with her or have a relationship with her, or even talk to her for any longer. The three minute interaction was enough to take me into a different emotional state. I wondered if she could tell that I needed a hug at that moment, that I needed hope. If it was just alcohol that led her to approach me, or if there was some deeper synchronicity going on in the world that pairs people at specific moments on a subconscious level. It wasn't a romantic interaction, more just a pure spontaneous moment of mutual connection with a stranger. As I drifted off to sleep I dreamt of airport bars in the coming year where I would talk to more strangers, travellers on the same path heading to different destinations, leaving an impression of beauty in my memory at a specific moment at a specific time.
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