Story Peeps Change Lives

Chance Encounter

Written by Merrick Bullock

At the viewpoint off West Highland Drive where I sit as it snows, I see the city come alive from it's Sunday sleep.  Although snowing with clouds in the sky, the view is breathtaking, leaving little wonder as to why I am here.  I am fortunate enough to enjoy the company of no one as I take this sight as my own private pleasure.  At once and knowing exactly what to write, I retrieve my legal pad from my shoulder bag and attempt to describe what I see.  Amid some minor descriptions, I stare at the last thing I wrote, "Really wish the sun was out."  Unsatisfied with the results of my attempt, I place the pad by my side and continue my lazy study of this beautiful city.  Oh, the tribute to the 1962 World's Fair standing so tall and proud.  You're looking so lovely.  I can see the interstate with its hustle and bustle, no nonsense, get to where I need to go on time attitude.  A bit closer, I notice good ol' Highway 99.  Once the central street of this beautiful city, it houses many decrepit buildings and slum businesses.  A shame, I think.  I follow it visually to the bridge under which a troll resides.  I really wish the sun was out. 

A voice says something behind me and I am aware that I now have company.  It's soft, quiet.  Out of pure interest, I turn around and there you are.  There you stood in a sundress with your flowing, blonde hair and bright eyes enveloping me like my own little ray of sunshine.  As much as I'd love to take this sight in longer, a nagging thought runs from my brain to my mouth.  How can you be warm wearing so little?  You smile and approach.  Please take my coat.  You sit down.  I cannot believe how beautiful you are.  My heart and head are working on overload, with one part of me wanting to play it cool and look back at the city in a desperate attempt to seem casual.  It appears that part is losing swiftly.  I can't take my eyes off of you.  You must have felt my gaze upon you.  I'm praying you don't think I'm some leering pervert.  You look down and glance at my legal pad, full of words that do not do justice to a view that now in no way can compare to looking at you.  You read silently then ask me why I try to express something when I do not have a full grasp of what I see.  I'm taken aback.  You smile nervously and apologize for prying.  Softly, I tell you it is fine.  I am a writer and I have come here for inspiration.  You tell me I'll find nothing but a cold sitting in the snow like this.  You suggest we have some coffee and conversation at one of the many Starbucks inhabiting my fair city and return after the snow has stopped.  I would not have guessed you for a metal fan as Dave Mustaine begins a stinging solo.  We arrive at Starbucks and you offer to help me with my writing.  After glancing at it I notice you write a sentence and place my pen in your pocket.  Is that it?  Is that all you have?  We laugh and carry on with idle chit chat, all the while I'm thinking how stupid I feel for not asking you your name.  There doesn't seem to be a place in our conversation that allows me a chance to inquire.  After a few cups, it is time to go.  You drive me back up Queen Anne Avenue to my car.  I tell you it was wonderful meeting you, but I didn't get your name.  You smile and tell me to keep writing.  When the time is right, I will know your name.  You drive off and I return to my bench, contemplating what you said about not having a full grasp of what I see when I remember you wrote a line on my pad.  I read it again. 

"The clouds above act as a shield to keep heavenly eyes away from the city.  For now, it is totally ours.  Humans waking up for their daily lives.  The snow acting as a catalyst to a lazy Monday I enjoy alone on this bench.  The Space Needle stands high in Seattle Center, it's roof aglow with Christmas decorations signaling that festive time of year...I really wish the sun was out." 

Just below that written in a handwriting that is not my own are the words: 

"Just so you know, you are like sunlight to me.  Shining so bright, I had to meet you.  Holli 212-####"

Author Profile: Merrick Bullock

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