Every time she comes around, I can’t help but look. No matter what she is wearing, always captivating. Always inviting. Eyes like a car crash, I instinctively refuse to look away. A walk that begs to be accompanied, like an unfinished piece of music.

I don’t even mean to see her, I just go about my daily business of being a social ghost floating unseen through the margins. She always manages to flit by the outskirts of my life without any flaws at all. Whether I’m sitting in the park trying to coax my muse out of her hiding place or sitting in a bar in the corner drinking up my loneliness, she is always appearing in all her unblemished glory.

I never see her with anyone else, always just roaming the city, eyes vibrant with life while she drinks in the lights. If I hadn’t seen her so often, I’d mistake her for a tourist with the way she delights in the simple facts of life. She walks joyfully, enjoying the night, and glances my way inadvertently.

And like a remorseful ghost, I fade into the background.

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