last week i was running up flatbush avenue between the brooklyn botanical garden and prospect park. i saw some windows on the ground next to the sidewalk. i pass them, then i stopped and went back. there was no indication of where the windows had come from. someone lost their windows, or left their windows. who did these windows belong to? had they come a long way? are there glassless holes where they used to mark the meeting of inside and outside? the shit was odd.
someone who needed directions approached me while i was marveling and asked how to get where they were going. they said i hope it's okay to ask you because you were stopped. they had a screenshot of a map, and were headed the opposite direction of where they wanted to go. we figured it out after a moment and they ran off down the hill. so often all you have to do is ask.
this experience of wonder created an opening for someone else. i wonder about this fear we have of inconveniencing each other. our aversion to asking. god forbid anyone interrupt the ruthless rush, the frenetic pursuit on this, or any other golden day.
i put my phone away and ran off too. through the fall afternoon. looking down, looking through.