On my way to class today

As I was walking to class this morning, I was looking at the branches barely covered by the last chromatic leaves, absentmindedly weaving through the sparsely used sidewalk, when I saw an unnerving face in my peripheral vision. My heart jumped and I felt a sudden nausea and an urge to walk faster. My eyes fixed on the woman’s face for just a moment before she passed me walking the other direction. It was a reptilian looking face – a hairless, oily mask, grotesquely devoid of texture. It was a dark yellow or a dull orange color with dull brown spots, three or four of them the size of quarters.

Once past her, I regretted speeding up. Who is to say that her appearance was not some trick of perception, brought on by suggestive colors of autumn and an overactive threat detection circuit in my brain putting an end to my distraction? Perhaps she does look that way and my mind automatically instigated rejection of the unfamiliar. There is no reason to think that she is a dangerous person or unfriendly because of a gut reaction.

On an impulse, I turned around.
“Ma’am”
She stopped at the tone of my voice. I’m not sure that I would have. I don’t trust most of the people that would stop me on my street. But there must have been something in the tone of my voice that convinced her that I didn’t mean her any harm.
“Ma’am, this is a strange question, and I expect that you don’t have time, but I was hoping that I might ask you a few questions.”
Surprisingly, she seemed open to the idea. At the very least, she turned to look at me.
“You see, I’m a journalist, and I’m doing a piece on what residents of Ñuñoa think of the Plaza Ñuñoa.”
She started to shake her head and turn to leave.
“Actually, ma’am. Ma’am. Please wait for just a moment. I lied. I’m not doing a piece on Plaza Ñuñoa. I, I was startled by your appearance and I don’t like that I reacted that way. I was hoping that by talking to you, I could fix that.”
I expected to get slapped in the face, but she agreed to let me buy her a cup of coffee.
“My name is Ben.”
“My name is Maria.” She leaned in for a kiss as I was stretching out my hand. We both looked down. I moved to kiss her cheek, but she seemed embarrassed and we stood silent for a moment.

We sat chatting over coffee until it began to get dark and we called for the check. When the check arrived, the price seemed low, and I went to the register to ask. They assured me that there was no problem, that all I had ordered was one coffee. I paid the check, returned to my table, picked up my things and started walking back towards my house.

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I decided to try my hand at a different style of writing.