The Girl in Yellow

Aage dekh le, she spoke sharply to a runner coming opposite her. For a moment I thought she said it to me. I crossed her after another loop and she said Hi to me. I don’t know her name.

We wave sometimes but have never exchanged a word. We don’t run with each other. But perhaps just as I am aware of her and the other familiar faces that show up earliest at the track, she would of me.

I thought about the sharpness of her tone to the runner from the opposite side. Not just her tone but also the way her face had contorted. I was startled but I wasn’t sure why.

I finished the last two rounds and thanked Suryavanch for running with me. I hadn’t slept well the previous night and the only way to push away the brief temptation to cancel was to remember the feeling of running and the just after.

Later in the day, I thought of the girl again. Her familiar yellow T shirt and short dark hair. And sometimes it is a moment like this that stays with you for a long time.