- Maria Garcia
Two cars, two lanes and one red light.
I’m seated, buckled in. My car
I turn to my right and see a stranger.
I wonder, is she listening to music?
Who is she? Does she sense me? What does she do? Does she—
We make eye contact.
In that moment we acknowledge each other's presence.
Two people. Two worlds.
My brain processing. Shifting gears.
And just like that before I can complete the thought—
The light is green and we go our separate ways.
Endless unanswered questions and the only thing left
snapshots, millions of them engraved into my mind for seconds
and then slowly pixelating away to never be remembered.
Is it possible she could have a written a poem about our
shared minute on Jericho Turnpike. A poem
where she wonders about who I am.