the short story project


Nisaa Byrd

The Bare Street 

       He saw her standing there; just standing there watching the clouds pass by – he watched her as she watched them. Something had caught his attention about her, but he didn’t know what it was. Maybe he caught a whiff of how she smelt when the wind carried her scent to his side of the street. What to him felt like 20 hours was really 3 minutes of actual time. The same time of her staring at the cloud and him staring at her. Everything was still – nothing moved. No cars passed, no people appeared … Nothing was there. Until the cloud grew smaller and was gone – she looked down; slowly starting to look sad. She looked down and stared at the ground as if something else had caught her attention. What was on the ground was once in the sky … left over Rain Water – she looked at the small rainbow that had been forming in front of her right before her eyes.

    It seemed as this small thing that happened any day anywhere at any time after it rained, it still seemed to fascinate her and slowly her sadness started to drift away when the rainbow grew larger. He stood there – still no one around. Why was he so interested in looking at her – she looked like a normal girl in normal clothes with a small weird tendency to stare at basic things that everyone learns in primary school. Was it because she was weird? No, that can’t be it – he see’s weird people every day and he never felt the need to stare. But yet this girl on the opposite side of the street seemed to be the most fascinating thing he had ever seen in his short life. Now what has felt like 100 hours had only been maybe 15 minutes. Was he going to say anything to her … No of course not, what exactly would he say? ” Hey lady what are staring at” … No that’s to overaggressive … maybe ” Excuse me is everything okay? ” …. No makes it seems like he thinks she’s crazy… who knows what he should say …. Maybe ” Hey, that’s a pretty rainbow isn’t it?” Hmm that actually is a pretty good one – it’s like we are both interested in the same thing and we both can talk about the colors. This being his new found plan he was ready to try to execute it. 

     But by the time he looked up to walk across the bare street – her eyes were locked on him; by the looks of it she had found something about him that caught her interest. What was it – was it something on him. Did she notice that he had been looking at her for exactly 15 minutes; who knows how many times the walking sign had blinked to tell him too cross the street to get to continue to his regular destination. Exactly how long had she noticed that he had been standing there watching her? Maybe she didn’t like what he was wearing. But there’s something about her that he hadn’t noticed… Her eye’s … Her eyes were …. No are the most beautiful thing’s he had ever had the fortune of laying his own very eye’s on. It’s like her eyes was a replica of the comet Lovejoy. A glistening beauty that you couldn’t help but stare at and deeper into. Then again before he had noticed she had begun to walk towards him. Before he realized she stood in front of him in the street – as nothing but wind passed by them. 

The sun had lain its ray’s just over them. She didn’t speak – He didn’t move. Her eyes met his – The most beautiful shades of aqua/gold he had ever seen. They stood there not a word to be said …. They stood there in the Bare street.

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