I think about her. I think about the first time I saw her. I was eighteen and at School and I was sitting by myself under the orange and yellow of a fading October tree. I had a book in my hand and I was reading and for some reason I looked up. She was walking alone across the lawn of the School with an armful of papers. She tripped and the papers fell to the ground and as she bent over to get them she looked around to see if anyone had noticed. She didn't see me, but as she scrambled to pick up her papers, I saw her.
She didn't see me, but I saw her.
She didn't see me, but I saw her.
