She walked with confidence, as if she'd passed this way before. She looked dressed for a date in what would have to be called, 'a little black dress.' She set it off with pearls and a white cane. I don't know if the coincidence was planned or incidental but I hope it was the former. I like people who approach the world with confidence and grace. I've managed confidence, never mastered grace. She had both.
Most who saw her coming took a second look. First they noticed the cane, either hearing it's faint tap, or seeing it brush the air in front of her. Then they noticed her. She looked a bit like Madonna, blond hair, lean shoulders, strong stride, with wrap around sunglasses. I'm sure I heard the 'three blind mice' cheering as she passed by.
We saw it coming but were too startled to call out. A fellow, so important in the world that he couldn't but be connected constantly. A fellow, so important to himself that he needed to be encased in music. A fellow tapping messages into a cell phone, while listening to the screech of music through white plugs in his ear. He was walking rapidly. A man of importance. A man of action. A man with places to go. A man, on whom the fact that it's called TWIT-ter, would be lost. He was on a direct course with the woman walking, casually but at full alert, with the cane.
The crash was inevitable.
So, it happened.
He looked up after smashing into her. He saw her cane and said, stupidly, 'Sorry, I didn't see you.' Her voice was dry, 'Oh, you're blind too?' He quickly said, not catching her sarcasm, 'No, sorry, I was texting.' She, 'And God gave you eyes, what the hell was he thinking?'
I applauded. Actually clapped my hands together. She couldn't see me, I wanted her to hear me. Good on you sister! I'm glad you're on my team.