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Every day I see her like clockwork. Noon, Main Street intersection. Daily I see her as I go to the coffee shop for lunch. She must have a ritual, same as mine. Me, the daily grind at the office. Her, what? Work? Gym? School? Kids? A lover? It's that last possibility that haunts my mind. The reason why I can't work up the nerve to say a simple "hi". One word. Just one syllable has never been so difficult to utter. It's not the word that scares me, it's the possibility to gain the hope of loving an angel and having it taken away from me.

Her wavy brown hair flowed down to the small of her back as she gracefully stepped down the curb in 4 inch heels. Would this be the day I worked up the nerve to say "hello"? What harm could one single word do. Today is the day. It has to happen. As I let go of the door handle that I'm debating opening and hiding away in my normal refuge, I look up at my dream in flesh. Her wavy brown hair flowed down to the small of her back as she gracefully stepped down the curb in 4 inch heels. Yes, today is the day.

I began walking toward the street. I heard the screaching of tires. Screaming. I'm not sure what I saw, it was just moving blurs. Before I knew it I realized I was on my knees, holding her head. How did I get here? It didn't matter, this is all I've ever dreamed of. All I ever could have ever feared if I'd been able to imagine the soul crusing terror I was now face to face with, my beautiful angel in my arms. Now pale, flowing brown hair, sticky. I look at my hand, covered in blood. Her lips moved, and through desperate gasps utters, "it... is... you." A slight smile crossed her lips, as her body went limp in my arms.