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Brief Encounters


Our paths cross, briefly, likely never to rejoin. So it goes for, what, 98... 99% of the world's population? Perhaps more? The one-and-done encounters occur so often, are so much a part of the fabric of our lives, that we scarcely give it a thought. I know I don't, not often, anyway. But this past month saw a change in that, and I'm not sure why.

The evening of July 4th saw us walking around south campus, waiting for the fireworks to start. Among the crowd of people was a young man, sitting on the grass, eating a meal. He was dressed like he'd just played a game of soccer, and he appeared to be alone. Why?, I wondered. Not that there's anything particularly wrong with being on your own. I guess I just expect someone in their late teens/early twenties to be surrounded by their peers, having fun, especially on one of the busiest nights of the year.

A few weeks ago, I was on one of my many walks, and passed through downtown. It was a hot day, the sun scorching the earth and heating the pavement to an uncomfortable level. As I passed by one of the old buildings, there was a young woman sitting there, propped against an exterior wall. Her head bowed, she looked... unhappy? A sense of despair seemed to emanate from her, and I slowed my pace. Would it be right to stop and ask if she was okay? Was it in fact a human obligation to do so? I wasn't sure, so dipped into a nearby shop to take a few moments to decide. When I popped back out, the young lady had gone.

This past weekend, while enjoying some time away in St. Louis, I visited an ice cream shop for the first time. The employee who served me there was very professional. Nice, polite, with a smile on their face. I honestly couldn't tell whether they were a boyish-looking female, or perhaps trans. On many (most?) levels, it shouldn't matter, at least not to me. But, for some reason, I found myself wondering about their life. In our society, it isn't always easy being either trans or appearing androgynous People can sometimes be thoughtless and cruel. And yet, here this person was, smiling and helpful. Was it easy for them, or were they putting on a brave face? And why did I care at all?

The aforementioned thoughts are ones I've had about others over the years. Not on a constant basis, of course. That would be overwhelming. Yet the notions do arise, and I find myself feeling somewhat hollow with the knowledge that our paths are likely never to cross again. I hope that the solitary 'soccer player' eventually met up with people who loved him and that they watched the fireworks together. I hope the woman sitting alone, looking sad on the hot pavement, was able to find solace in something or someone later on. And, I hope the employee at the ice cream shop is living a good and happy life.


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