I am not quite sure what actually drew my eyes towards her. Of course, everyone looks at everyone else while driving; it is just nature to want to know who is next to you. You do it. I do it. He does it. She does it. It is subconscious, just second nature to tilt your head or flick your eyes to the sides as you drive. All I can say is something about this tilt or flick captured me in a sea of beauty. Among the dirty truckers, the stuck-up yuppies, the hoodlums, and everything in between, she stood out like a rose in a weed patch.
I had only ever seen one other woman who could even come close to reaching her beauty and that was the news caster from channel four. Structuring for her chin: precise. Texture of her skin: the kind of smooth that touching would send the heart racing wild. Her hat: designer, but as to which, I have no idea; nor do I care. She was defiantly something else. Now, you may be asking yourself, why did he only mention a tiny part of this so called angel? And that question, dear reader, is the only one you can think of to which I have an answer to. The fact is, her hat was covering her nose and above. It did me much worse this way by causing my mind to wonder how this already beautiful woman could look even better. And in my mind, I could not even fathom someone looking that beautiful. I mean, hell, you do not even see that kind of beauty in movies.
And now that I think about it, even if I could see the rest of her; her entire body; I do not think I would even describe it to you. You see, have you ever had a toy that you loved so much, or a book, or a movie, or anything, that you loved so much that to share it with anyone else just seems impractical. It is yours and no one else can have it. (Welcome back to the “Mine!” stage from childhood.) The best I will go on to describe her as, is…well…just like an angel. And yes, to all of you out there who just rolled your eyes, I did go boarder-line cliché and I apologize for reducing her to something such as “the grass is always greener…”, but I feel that in this case it was relevant.
She was alone in her vehicle. That part I did like, for I feared for the poor shmuck who thinks himself worthy for someone so grand. If it was up to me, I would be filling that passenger seat. I would challenge anyone to the battle of the hearts over my new love. And I would win. Always. But then I got my wondering, what if she does have a guy. What if she is on her way home right now to some no good behemoth of a man? Scarily I found myself jealous of a man I had never met before in my entire life. If there was even one to be jealous towards.
For miles and miles we traveled, kicking up tiny pebbles from recent construction, rain misting softly upon our windshields. She would speed ahead, and then I would catch her. She would slow up, and then I would take my foot of the gas. It was like a game. A game I unfortunately was playing alone. I do not know whether I would have liked her to look my way and acknowledge me. If she was not notice me, she would most-likely have done one of two things: the first, give me a weird look and speed off in the high class she probably spent a half mil on; the second, she would join in the game with me, causing her to lose that mysterious feel that I was so attracted to. Out of terror that I would lose this beauty, I eased on the breaks, distancing myself from her by about thirty feet.
The distance between us began to narrow. I checked the speedometer, it still read sixty-five. Then, a light in front of me began to blink. I knew what was happening, but it was as if I was frozen. Trees and buildings passed by, but it was all in a blur. My heart sank into my stomach. What I dreaded from the beginning was now coming true. When I first become aware of the angel in the car next to me, a voice in the back of my mind spoke out, She is bound to turn sooner or later. It was now happening; she would soon be gone, and I would never see her again.
Ten seconds later I was alone again. Above in the sky, the gray sky turned even darker; the rain pouring heavily and no trace of the sun— if there even was one before—could be seen among. Some of you may be wondering why I had not taken that last right, caught up to her, and maybe even asked her out for a cup of coffee or something, instead of just continuing straight. If I was to have turned, I would have been late to my destination. And everyone knows that it is never good for the groom to be late for his wedding.