I'm Not One for Love Songs

Rushing down the busy New York street, a young woman balanced her phone, folders and handbag as she literally sprinted towards her destination. To any passer-by the sight would have looked normal in the hustle and bustle of the bright city.
The girl looked dressed up for a hot summer day dressed in a forest green, patterned sundress that had a white bow around just below the chest with elegant yet sensible, white peep-toe heels.
Her long, thick, blonde hair swished behind her as she hurried along. The clack of her heels went unnoticed in all the noise, as did her presence.

Waiting for the running man to show on the street light, she sighed, shifting her weight from foot to foot. The light had barely changed and she was already carrying on her journey, dodging the other pedestrians who, like her were on their way to work. There was the odd tourist or two who were simply searching for a nice place to grab some breakfast before hitting the city sights. The girl had no time to watch these people though as she crossed the road.

"I'm going to be late!" She whined, speeding up.

Maybe that was her mistake, speeding up, or maybe luck just wasn't with her, choosing to forsake her in a major time of need. But of course the inevitable happened and she stumbled, dropping all of her belongings. She groaned in frustration as she bent down, smoothing her dress to retain some pride. No one chose to stop and help but at least they moved.

She sniggered sarcastically at the thought, reaching for her folder.

Across the street one person, one stranger in the crowd, had noticed her. He watched as she picked up her belongings, bending down gracefully and carefully avoiding the hundreds of feet that walked past.

He frowned at the fact that know one helped, scowling ashamedly as he realised that he couldn't help her. To cross the street would be suicide in this traffic. So he simply watched this mysterious stranger as she gathered her things and walked away.