Sunday, September 23, 2012


She sits there on the foot of the stairs, her large body spread across the step, covering it in its entirety. Unable to comfortably fit the limbs under herself, she leaves them to dangle from the step, a sight that appears most uncomfortable to me. It didn’t really start out as an attempt to see if she’d react to me or come to recognize me, but it was just that I was curious about her. She seemed to have a home, to be looked after, yet she sat there with a forlorn expression on her face. I smiled at her as I passed her the first time and by the second I’d worked up enough courage to bend down and say hello, knowing that she wasn’t going to attack me if I tried to touch her. So I leaned forward, slowly so as not to scare her away, and I placed my hand before her nose to let her sniff it and allow me to pat her gently. She lowered her head slightly, closing her eyes, as I began to slowly stroke the top of her head. This episode has repeated itself almost every time I see her. Though sometimes she isn’t there because she nestles herself in an area inaccessible to me as it’s fenced by potted plants. Other times, she isn’t even there in her little enclosure, half asleep on her makeshift mattress made of towels and old bedding.  She has some business to attend to, I presume, and I know not where she goes. I suppose I can’t know all the stories of her life, as she doesn’t know about mine. The times that we do meet, I can sadly never stay too long, always being en route to work or on the way back home after a long tiring day. But as it is, our fleeting encounters have translated to recognition and if I were to be bold enough to say so, a strange sort of love. The first time she acknowledged me, it brought great warmth to my heart. It was an odd feeling of happiness having succeeded in making a difference to her dreary day seen by the importance that she according to that passing minute. This was obvious, since she’d begun to raise her head from the step, even attempting to heave her large body up to greet me appropriately. I smiled, stroked her gently, spoke to her words that she probably wouldn’t understand since my language is nothing similar to her native Thai. She smiled back, not a real smile, but I could tell it was mutual and I said goodbye and walked on. A few days passed and I did not see her again and neither did she see me.