Walking

I am walking, the cold asphalt beneath my shoes echoing with the drumming of thousands of feet. I pause to watch the cars going by, traversing the gaps between the white and yellow lines.

Across the road I see a boy, with hair of sandy blonde. I know him well and the girl with whom he walks, his sister, escorting her home from school.

I raise one arm, as if to wave, then rethink and lower it once more. He glances across at me, as if my slight movement had caught his attention.

I smile, thinking that he sees me, yet I am disappointed. His grey–blue eyes stare through the place I stand.

Looking, yet not seeing.

Knowing, yet not caring.

He and his sister walk on, vanishing among the city's crowds. My thoughts are haunted by his eyes, staring through me, not noticing my presence, not caring that I walked this way, off my usual path, merely to catch a glimpse of his face.