The Stranger
Michael and I were walking past a small café when I noticed a woman standing near the outdoor tables.
She had her back toward me.
She appeared to be around fifty, perhaps a little older.
But what caught my attention wasn’t her face.
It was the turquoise fabric she was wearing.
I stopped walking.
For a moment, I tried to convince myself that it was nothing.
Turquoise clothing wasn’t rare.
There were countless beach cover-ups in similar colors.
It couldn’t possibly mean anything.
Then a breeze moved the bottom of the fabric.
And I saw the yellow sun.
A tiny, crooked yellow sun.
Hand-stitched in exactly the same place.
My heart began racing.
I looked again.
There was no mistaking it.
“Where Did You Get That?”
I don’t remember making the decision to walk toward her.
One moment I was beside Michael.
The next, I was standing a few feet behind the woman.
