On my way to work…translated…
On the way to work by bicycle, I’d passed by a park, and sometimes, I’d stopped, and watched the people exercising in the morn, the retired folks who were dancing there, and, enjoyed the changes of the seasons in action, day after day, life is normal and filled with the routines.
But don’t know when, there would be a man in his thirties, standing by the entrance. At first, I’d not paid him any mind, he’d dressed himself well, I thought, he might be waiting for someone, or a ride, maybe. But, I saw him, almost every single day on my way to work. After a while, I’d felt, that something’s up about him, I couldn’t tell what it was, like an instinct, perhaps, especially with the gazes he’d flashed me every now and then, so every time I’d ridden past him, I’d ridden quickly off.
One day, I rode my bicycle through the park again, and I saw that man, standing at the entrance once again. I’d sped by him, got to the parking lot of my office building, parked my bicycle in the garage. After work, I was getting my bicycle, ready to ride home again, I’d found a note, posted on my bicycle, “I really want to meet you, can you please call me? Thanks!” with a cell phone number that followed.
And the images of that man came to mind. Although I wasn’t sure if it was him, it might be someone else, who’d posted the notes by mistake too, or the note may be something that someone had, thrown out, but I’d not felt that scent of gladness of how “my two daughters are both in middle school already”, I’d just, smiled it off, then, without any hesitations, rolled that piece of paper up, tossed it away.
the notes left…not my photo.
The next day to work, I’d not taken my normal route by the park. The following days, I’d ridden my bicycle through the noisy streets, filled with traffic, couldn’t feel that gentle breeze that I’d once felt, riding through the parks. And a week had passed, and, because of matter of traffic, I’d decided, to get back to my old route, passed through the alleys, by the park.
Ho, that man is gone, and, had never appeared since. Of course, I’d not thought about it, nor would I be interested if he was the one, leaving that note on my bicycle, just seeing it as an interlude in my life. And after that, every morn, I’d still, ridden, with that leisure to work, and, slow down from time to time, to watch the retired group, dance their dance, imagined that I too, have that energetic nature, enjoying myself, in this sort of, a joyous, peaceful environment.
So, because you were afraid, that the man was a psycho, which we still don’t know, that, was why you’d, gone out of your way, to take the other route to work, and, because of this man’s behaviors, it’d made you given up something you enjoyed and loved, and this just shows, how we can affect each other’s behaviors, even if we’re total strangers.
Life, the Obstacle Course 