Right On Ludington

I don't know why I did it.

I wouldn't normally consider myself a stalker.

Yet, I found myself drawn to the mid-sized maroon Saturn for several blocks.

The young woman driving the car was crying.

Sobbing, in fact.

At stop lights she would wipe her eyes, blow her nose and wail. It was a sunny day and both of our driver-side windows were down and I could feel her pain.

She was oblivious to anyone around her. Why is it when we are in our cars we believe we are alone and safe from the outside world?

I continued to follow her.

I was intrigued.

What would make her weep like that and where was she going?

Did she just lose her job? A loved one? Was she mourning the loss of a relationship? Did she find out she was pregnant or maybe not any more? Perhaps she had received medical results of another kind and the prognosis was grim? Maybe it was as simple as a poignant song that came on the radio and weeks of tension were finally being released as she quietly sang along. Whatever it was, my heart went out to her.

Why?

Because I've been that woman.

When the Saturn turned right on Ludington Street, I kept going straight giving her the space she deserved.

This post is for The Red Dress Club's writing assignment, RemembeRED. This week's prompt was to imagine you are meeting someone for the first time. You want to tell them about yourself. Instead of reciting a laundry list of what you do or where you're from, describe a scene from your life that best illustrates your true self.