There’s a man on the corner who sells cheap roses. It doesn’t matter how bad the weather is, he is there, this faceless person who became part of my daily line of vision. I’ve never seen anyone stop to buy any. It always seemed like it could turn into quite a perilous escapade if the lights were to suddenly turn green. This would either result in free flowers or free money but either way it would leave one person cheated and very angry. However when I drove past him last night for the first time in a while, I had to shut my right eye to eliminate him from the view that lay ahead of me. Though devoid of any definable features, to me his face held a memory so clear and so vivid that it was better to half blind myself then to experience the stabbing pain I knew was coming should I keep both eyes on the road.
I always used to believe red roses were an unoriginal attempt at romance: the ultimate cliché. It wasn’t until Lol drove me past that very corner and stopped with just the right amount of time for the transaction to be effectuated correctly did I change my mind. It was a sad wilting small bouquet with petals that were already turning brown at the tips. However, the spontaneity and the intention of the gesture itself turned what could seem predictable to an innocent eye into an action that would make the sternest of ice maidens melt. And so, the corner is not just a corner; it is a memory amongst many. How long can I continue blurring out endless reminiscent thoughts by driving with one eye shut? Will I simply close the other one and take my hands off the wheel all together? Or somewhere along the line, will I find a pair of nice pink sunglasses to soften the journey? Only time will tell.
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