A girl sat alone. Before I saw her, I knew nothing of beauty. Confusion does not begin to describe what I felt. Disengaged, staring into space, she seemed in a trance. Every part of her perfect, seeming unreal. Features so delicate, she seemed almost translucent, as though the wind could blow her away in glowing wisps of smoke. Goddesses would seem average in comparison to her. Hordes of people passed without noticing her, but I had noticed, how could they not see her? I would have thought her imagined, if not for the book in her hand. Just as Annie Dillard once said “she reads books as one would breathe air, to fill up and live”, this girl seemed to be who she was referring to, holding that book. “Kai, you’re such a romantic, you’re too caught up in your own imagination,” that’s what people say to me. Life is nothing without imagination though, I imagine to create something better than reality. My story is not my main focus, my main focus is creating stories for others. No one had ever seemed better to create a story for than this girl. On that bench, her beauty was effortless but the sun itself was not as bright as her. Pondering her every feature, studying her, who was she, I wanted to know. Quiet, motionless, both in our own worlds, I saw her, but she didn’t seem to see anyone. Roses decked her flowing hair, her dress seemed out of date, and she seemed out of place. Stuck in a world of weeds, she was a wildflower. Thoughts swirled through my brain, I was lost in them. Understanding would be unlikely. Very. What happened, I would never know, for the girl had disappeared, the book all that remained. X-out what you don’t know or what you don’t like, but I would never X-out this girl. Yes, I may have been the only one who saw her, but what a pleasure that was. Zapped back to reality, I picked up the book, for that and wonder was all I had left of her.