Four Leafers

In a uniform of the common folk, blue-collar free world, and a stride of a giraffe with eyes on the leaves, at the vigil of the summer solstice, there came a crossing of two strangers, in the medium betwixt the road and vocational property, a woman the age of twenty, and a foreigner in the eyes of a foreigner herself, me and a man who thinks I’m crazy.

I started this new job. It’s summer so I have time on my hands, and I don’t like to be late for things because I am a responsible adult human. So I show up with a crispy thirty minutes to spare, ensuring I get good street parking. With my extra time, I wonder a bit and see what new things I can discover. 

Each time that I go on my little walks I search around for four-leaf clovers, casually. My goal is to develop and nurture a magical power along with a collection of strangely mutated clovers. I’ve found hundreds of four leafers in my life, so now, when I get one I like to give it away and share the luck. 

I’m a female and a female amongst others who fear males when roaming solo.

So now that this is all prefaced….

I’m walking down the street, yeah? I’ve counted two homeless peeps that I swerved, sorry. This janky man in a cut-off sleeve shirt with a shuffling gait is walking toward me. I consider switching sides of the street in the midst of looking at the ground, slowly hoovering my foot over a patch of grass. I conclude safety and stride on. To my gasp, he walks off the sidewalk and into the road. I think, “my, that’s funny, maybe he’s avoiding me.” Reasonably though, why would anyone be afraid of me—lol. Instead, I assume he’s a jaywalker. We pass each other in parallel, now from a safe distance. In a bit, I look behind me, and he gets back onto the sidewalk on, the same side. He outright swerved me! I then verbally lol’d, realized I must be the crazy one, moved on, and found a four-leaf clover.

I had a good day at work.

“In a white cloak with blood-red lining, with the shuffling gait of a cavalryman, early in the morning of the fourteenth day of the spring month of Nisan, there emerged in the covered colonnade between the two wings of the palace of Herod the Great, the Procurator of Judaea, Pontius Pilate.”

^I just liked this quote from what I’m currently reading, The Master and Margarita

“Make me some coffee.”