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Stranger than strangers

I see her all the time. I have no idea what her name is, where she lives, if she has a cat, a dog, a fish, or any of those small details. She just keeps popping up in my life. Monday at the corner store, Wednesday at the gas station, Saturday at the movies, and that’s just one week. I’ve literally seen her a hundred times in the past year, yet I know nothing about her.

There is something to the mystery that makes me hesitate in introducing myself, it holds me back like I’m going to ruin something special. This special thing we share in not knowing one another, but knowing enough to recognize each other. We never wave, we never say anything, we never acknowledge existence of one another unless we have to. If I hold the door open, or some other polite gesture, or if we do something that requires apology or excuse.

Now here we are, stuck in an elevator. An elevator that isn’t going anywhere. Stuck between the 7th and 8th floors, with no signs of reaching either.

I extend my hand in friendship and smile.

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