The fine line of strangerhood was never walked as much like a tightrope before I came along. Well, if you want to be entirely accurate, before he came along.
It was a simple fall day in New York, and all the people walking along the sidewalk reflected the brisk feel of the air in their rosy cheeks and scarf-covered necks. All of them walking the same as you, glancing at their cell phones without causing a break in traffic. Not one person is walking in a way that stands particularly out, nor is anyone wearing anything different than the norm of a fall coat over their other clothing.
You see, in New York you see a million strangers faces in a day, so why should one be more important to you than the rest? A fair amount are attractive, too, so why should he stick out more than the rest of them?
But instead of stopping myself from looking at his features, I allow myself a quick glance.
He has little wire framed glasses perched over a nose that had the explanation of snobby fitting it well. However, the snobbiness stopped there, his warm grey eyes glittering with the reflection of the fall leaves, and small crinkles next to them hinted that he had spent many a day smiling and laughing. Dark blonde curls mussed on top of his head suggest that he cared nothing for appearances, and a simple, tan jacket laid upon his lean shoulders.
Something about this man just seemed so real against the fake smiles all around, and the low quality men's cologne wafting into the sidewalk from one of the nearby stores. Such a juxtaposition made me want to say hello to the strange man whom I was setting my eyes upon for the first time. I wanted to say hello, knowing that I would most likely never see him again if I didn't say it now. But, at the same time, I was afraid. Would he look at me and see another one of the zombies that walked through the streets, or for how I truly am, a person worth knowing? But was I really worth knowing?
He was stopped at a stop light, waiting to cross the street. Now was the moment. I had to decide.
And decide I did, my hand reached out, almost without my knowing, and tapped his shoulder.
Looking back at me, his eyes looked pleasantly surprised.
"Hi," I spoke nervously, again feeling like a schoolboy.
"Hi," he said back, a simple smile pulling over his face, saying that he understood.
Then, before I knew what had happened, my phone was snapped out of my hand. Thinking the worst, I reached out for it, wondering if I had truly been so bad a judge of character. Before I could reach it, he handed it back. There was a contact with his name and number downloaded into it, along with where he lived.
"But, you don't even know me," I heard coming out of my mouth.
"Ah, ah. That is where you are wrong. My soul has already met yours, and it simply is joining again with you in celebration," his eyes twinkled trustingly.
I laughed in a disbelieving way, surprised at his words. "My name's Percy."
"And I'm Malcolm, but you already know that," he gave me a conspiratorial wink and started to walk again.