Beautiful Stranger

Daylight was pouring over my shoulder as I walked past the gothic pillars of the stone-gray library. Caught up with ambulatory paranoia, I focused and let my feet move as directed by a notion to pursuit forward movement. I tried to open my mind as I walked past the seemingly trafficked sidewalk. I wanted to get away from everybody like a phantom moving between people, along people, and through people. But despite my preoccupation on my sweet escape, my vision was ensnared by a shrill, vivid light dilating my pupils into a sudden flabbergast, like a euphoric inoculation of belladonna. I then found myself looking at sunshine - the kind I long ached for.

He was framed by the pilasters of the intoxicating hallway near the auditorium when I first saw him. He was walking wearing a pair of tattered, paint splattered khakis and worn out rubber sandals, with just the right laid-back, hippy attitude - exactly as I imagined him to be. I stopped moving. I never knew that phantasms could create such energy that brings itself into being. I was truly preoccupied or rather disturbed on what seemed to be a hallucinatory apparition that I missed to realize that I was not looking at my way. It was the echoes of my own phantom that alarmed me that he wasn't illusionary, but rather, a real, breathing flesh, which I had just bumped into. At first sight, he was not such a prophet, just about disappointing with his all skin and bones physique clothe with a sheer linen shirt. I took time to see right through his body until our eyes met. There is an intense power in the way he stares, something captivating, and quite hypnotic.

"Oh, darn! I'm really sorry," I heard him say.

I tried to think, but the effort was useless.

"Beautiful stranger," I blurted out in a murmur.

"Huh? Pardon?" he asked estranged.

I pulled up myself into full height to ease my stiffened bulk. I was stuck in a moment of lunacy, and desperation.

"A songline. LSS. I'm sorry." I responded with a weak a smirk.