The air was warm and without humidity. The grass was green and waving in the steady breeze. The breeze carried the scents of the pine trees in the distance behind me as I walked aimlessly down the road. It was more or less a foot path, but had enough width and gravel to it that maybe it was a dirt buggy road. But no buggies could be seen and I was enjoying the serene walk.
The bluest of skies above me with some puffy cumulus clouds made it seem as though I was on the top of the world. The bluish purplish mountains in the distance had snow on the top and looked like heavy clouds that had dropped to the earth, silver lining and all. I knew from experience that in this low to nil humidity air, I could walk for days and maybe weeks before reaching the foothills that led up to those silver linings.
I was not thinking of anything in particular and simply enjoying the walk. Dressed in my favorite blue and grey tennis shoes, no socks because I don't like socks during the summer despite the sweat and odor that comes from it, blue denim shorts, a button down shirt with a floral/Hawaiian print, and a white hat with a Velcro adjustable strap for size. I'd taken my glasses off and placed them in the front pocket of my shirt because they kept sliding down my nose.
As it was, my legally blind eyes failed to see the details of a woman as she was walking past me in quicker strides than me. I was so preoccupied with thinking about nothing that she had somehow managed to cruise up on me and pass me without my sensitive ears hearing her. But what I did notice about her was her determined gait and her figure that looked like it was fighting her very effort to pass me by.
Now, I'm not one to be overly nosy about the way that fellow walkers look like and generally, I just watch the shoes. It was when I glanced at the shoes with my legally blind eyes that I saw a familiar "S" and realized they were Sketchers. With a sudden recovery of memory, I recalled reading of a friend of mine who had Sketchers and was walking up a hill. If I quickened my pace, I would be able to come even with her, but it was her shoes that caught my attention.
After a bit of fuzzy viewing, I grew tired of it and put my glasses back on my nose. I was now viewing a woman from behind that I instantly began wondering what OTHER situations she would look like from behind. My pulse quickened and the testosterone reaction began by the shorts of my zipper. Because I had no other place to be, I began to follow her from a distance. After realizing that this would make me look like a stalker, I quickened my pace to overtake her..as though to pass her.
