I was looking straight ahead, as usual, driving my car.
I very rarely look at the car behind me in my rearview mirror.
For some reason, this time I did.
She was alone in her car with sunglasses on. I tried not to stare because somehow, I could tell she was upset.
I must have had my empathic radar on again because she looked normal for ten seconds.
I kept glancing back though.
Ok, now she was crying very hard.
I could tell by the shape of her lips as she was trying to control herself and wiping under her eyes beneath the sunglasses.
So many questions and pictures went through my mind.
Did she just get a call from the hospital that her son had gotten into a car accident?
Did one of her parents just die?
Then she started hitting the passenger seat and crying while we sat at the red light.
Being the kind of person I am, I wished I could let her know I wanted to reach out to her somehow.
When she got angry and hit the seat, that caused me to think her husband either asked for a divorce, she caught him with another woman, or her boyfriend text broke up with her.
Then the light turned green.
I wondered all of that, seeing something I’ve never seen before all in a space of forty-five seconds.
I hope she’s ok but I’ll never know.
One Reply to “Prose; Rear View Mirror”
Its beautifully sad how sometimes we feel strongly for a person, feeling an instinctive connect. But the broken feeling of unfamiliarity is that big bully that pulls you in an alley of repression and forces you to turn away from the little things that you DO see and feel.