It's Friday
A small scene in the rain — and the strange weight of meeting a stranger's eyes for one second.
There are days when the smallest thing — a pair of eyes meeting yours through a windshield — sticks with you longer than the rest of the day. This is one of those.
It’s Friday
And it’s raining out
A steady flow, it doesn’t stop
A maddening gust of wind
Just another day that’s unpredictable
I had to drive to the store
And I saw a man with no coat
Only jeans, a white shirt, and a bag
He walked with no urgency
He practically dawdled
I slowed down to look at him
Why was he walking like that in the rain?
He didn’t move his head
But his eyes turned to mine
And just for a moment, we saw each other
I continued driving down the road
He was now in my rear view mirror
The wipers washed away the rain
And then, just like that, he was gone
A second of eye contact with a stranger is sometimes the whole moment a day was waiting to give you. You don’t have to know what it meant. You just have to notice it happened.
— JTC