I know it's from another place I posted on, but it was too interesting for me not to show somewhere else.
I saw a woman at a crosswalk today as we sat at a light on Howe. She seemed normal for a moment, though she looked slightly perturbed and upset. I almost expected her to start crying, but to my surprise she did begin to cry, as well as shout. She was dressed as I was today, actually. Black stretchy tank top, dark blue jeans, and sandals, carrying a clear Starbucks drink. She started shouting wildly, appearing to accuse someone who would have been standing somewhere between the ether around her to somewhere in the middle of traffic. It was soundless to me, of course, but I should have rolled down my window to hear her. I thought perhaps she was wearing a bluetooth and was yelling into it, but I saw no devices on either hear, and no phone in her hand. I dismissed her being crazy as a possibility as well; she didn't have that demeanor. It seemed as if she was trying to pour her heart out to someone she would never be able to speak to, or else pleading for spiritual guidance. Too late I thought about tossing her my ring; I didn't know why I had that instinct either, it's a precious possession of mine. I felt bad too that I had thought about it only as the light turned green. How could a ring help her anyway. Then I thought about it: My ring is silver, with a heart shaped into the center. Perhaps I had thought subconsciously to remind her somehow that there is love and caring in her life, even if it is only she who supplies it. Also, I had imbued it with my purpose recently, and thought perhaps it would do better to serve her purpose. I hope I see her again, so I can either give her the ring, or see her with a happier face.