Of an Unnamed Girl

She looked right at me as she cracked her window. Thought I did not know her, though I had never seen her before, I was suddenly sure she was about to tell me some important secret. but the feeling passed as instantaneously as is came when she looked away; our worlds fell apart, away from each other. She looked down and fumbled with something in her lap - I could only just see her by the light between our cars, a beacon in the dark parking lot. I held my breath, but didn't know why. Her face was lit up quite unexpectedly by a violent orange glow. A cigarette lighter. I could see all the curves and plains and flaws of her face in that moment. She inhaled and put the lighter away. I was vaguely aware that I was staring, but she seemed not to notice. It was cold. She exhaled and a mixture of steam and smoke curled lazily out her window, disbanding in the frigid night air. At last she glanced back at me. I had not moved. I would have smiled but her eyes were empty - she had not seen me. She started her car, put it in reverse, and drove away. I watched her tail lights in the distance until they became lost among all the other little red lights. Realizing I was still half-way out of my car, I swung my bag over my shoulder, slammed the locked door shut, and strode away quickly, aware as well of just how cold I had become. I shook my head as I crossed the parking lot, thinking of all the other similar memories that had already faded to nothing....