I was walking closely behind this woman this morning. I didn’t mean to but such were the pace we were walking that it appeared like I was shadowing her. So I observed her and made some mental notes.
She had long greying hair that suggested she was perhaps in her 50s. She wore a white linen skirt printed with red roses. She walked, slightly hunched, looking down. There was something about her that made me notice her.
I saw her right hand reach out, fingers spread out. They were reaching for the plants from the garden of that house. She touched the leaves as she walked past. I knew and I recognised it. She was a tactile person.
She wore a pair of wayfarers. She walked past some bins. Being tactile, she tapped ’em. Strangely, it was in time to my music.
Satisfied, I crossed the road.