It was moving awfully fast — tripping and falling, choking on itself. As if it were late, as if it could be late…
It noticed me (… a little too late). It stopped, it stared at me. And I stared back.
It stopped for way too long. It knew that. It knew that I knew that. It chose to ignore.
It proceeded, at the calm pace it was prescribed to go all along. Undisturbed, as if nothing happened.
It owed me no explanation.