7:47am

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She walks predictably, purposefully, professionally, and passionately, proposedly on path to her employment.

I drive riskily, recklessly, ruthlessly, and irreverantly past her every morning, rushing forward to my work.

Over and again, days, months, has it been years? That’s a new jacket. Did you lose the Jackie Onassis sunglasses? I liked your hair better short. I feel so close to you but I never think of you until 7:47am, or sometimes 7:50 because I left late and you’ve made it all the way up the hill and when I see you I speed up in case there’s a train coming that morning. And then you vanish from my consciousness until our minute returns.

I never think to slow down, to connect instead of just drive by. I’m certainly not just going to holler from my car. After so long, we deserve so much more. I never leave enough time for myself, much less any time for us to somehow meaningfully make contact.

Even though, maybe you have never even noticed me. I used to set my watch by you, count on you, feel anchored by your certain appearance along my morning commute until, one day, you weren’t there any more. And I never even said hello.

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