He sees her ankle pass, as anyone lying on the curb would, and grabs it. It feels sharp in his hand; he lets out a faint whimper as he gives it a tug. The woman falls to the ground, silent but for the thud of her body against concrete.
He gets to his knees and approaches her face. A scarlet puddle begins to form beneath her face. ‘Like a wet forest,’ he sighs. He strokes her face with his hand.
‘I used to know a woman just like you,’ he begins. ‘She had a face just like yours.’ He nods approvingly at what he has just said, and continues stroking the woman’s face.
‘I’ve written a book,’ he says. ‘It might have been about you had I known you. As it stands now I’m not certain what it’s about.’
Then he looks hard at the woman’s face. He blinks heavily. ‘Perhaps your face isn’t quite like hers after all.’
He is no longer nodding. ‘No I don’t believe it is.’
At this point he rises to his feet and brushes off his pants. ‘I really must be going,’ he says. ‘Pleasant meeting you.’
He hurries along the crowded street.
He gets to his knees and approaches her face. A scarlet puddle begins to form beneath her face. ‘Like a wet forest,’ he sighs. He strokes her face with his hand.
‘I used to know a woman just like you,’ he begins. ‘She had a face just like yours.’ He nods approvingly at what he has just said, and continues stroking the woman’s face.
‘I’ve written a book,’ he says. ‘It might have been about you had I known you. As it stands now I’m not certain what it’s about.’
Then he looks hard at the woman’s face. He blinks heavily. ‘Perhaps your face isn’t quite like hers after all.’
He is no longer nodding. ‘No I don’t believe it is.’
At this point he rises to his feet and brushes off his pants. ‘I really must be going,’ he says. ‘Pleasant meeting you.’
He hurries along the crowded street.
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