To: A Stranger.
It was after I dropped my father off for a run, and the two of us were on Old Post Road near the intersection with Sheep Pasture or something. You had a really nice road bike, but you weren’t pretentious about it. You wore your helmet but there was no trace of spandex -just regular shorts and what I assumed to be a white v-neck. Look at that, we’re friends already.
Well, I passed you in the red truck, listening to Sufjan Stevens, and for a moment, I could have sworn that we made eye contact. You went closer to the grass and I went way over the double yellow lines and there was this mutual respect of vehicles and the like.
I was really jealous. Even though it’s 7:40 and still ungodly out, you were riding your bike probably to the beach or a friend’s house or maybe the supermarket, and I was stuck in a car. You kind of made me feel like a crap person, to be honest.
Regardless, we both kept moving. After my full stop at the next stop sign, I looked up to see you pedaling along. I kept checking up on you, making sure that you were still in my sight.
But then I had to turn onto Old Town and we went our separate ways.
I’m really glad I met you, though.
