Funnily enough, I have done a lot of people watching lately; I blame the circuit course at the gym, there really is nothing else to do apart from watch the other ladies working out OR stare at the floor.

Picture this;

A woman of average height, who is quite fit but oddly proportioned for it. She has...

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You know. That just isn't working for me. I feel awkward describing someone else, even just for character reference. So shoot me. I'll just do myself. From someone else's perspective. Or at least, I'll try. -gulp- Part fiction/part reality/part a story in itself. Yipes. Let's try again.

Picture this;

I've seen this woman before; sitting in her car at a set of traffic lights, idly watching the world go by out her window. My car is in the lane next to hers; stationary, just the same. A perfect place for observing.

She seems of average height, although possibly a little bit taller than most. Her hair is lying on her shoulders, golden strands glinting in the sunlight as it moves through the tinted car windows. It lays flat and untouched, though shortly starts blowing in the breeze inside the car (air conditioning vents perhaps?) so in a quick motion, she pulls it back off her face and secures it with an elastic band. While she does so, I observe her hands. She wears no jewellery apart from a black banded watch; I wonder why this is so?

Does she own pretty trinkets, and has simply forgotten to wear them on this particular morning? Does she prefer silver or gold jewellery? Would she wear a bracelet, or just a ring or two. Which fingers would she wear her rings on; is she married? These questions will need to lie unanswered in this moment.

The lights change, and her car accelerates. With a shake of my head, I realise that our chance encounter is over. I continue along my merry way. About five minutes down the road, my car brakes at another intersection. I happen to look to my left, and to my surprise, there she is again.

She is glancing out the window again and stares right at me. Although she is looking in my direction, I get the feeling she is not really seeing; More like she is just doing the motions. She reaches down to her dashboard and fiddles with something. I crane my neck a bit, and see that she has an Ipod sitting in a console; perhaps she is changing songs?

I wonder what she listens to. Is it old classic music, like the music coming out of my stereo right now? Or is it something more contemporary, some band which I wouldn't even know the name of. I wish her window was rolled down, so I could hear. Her lips are moving to some unknown tune - her actions are reserved though, not carefree. Perhaps subconsciously she knows that she is being observed?

Feeling nosey (and very stalker-like) this time when the traffic lights change, it is my car which disappears first. Soon enough I arrive at my destination, and walk into the supermarket. Needing to select just a few items, I begin making my away around the aisles. Once done, I walked to the registers; then realised that I had forgotten to get milk. Ironically, I am greeted with a sense of dejavu.

Yes, it is the woman again, this time standing. She is not lean, and is wearing a summer skirt and a top with sleeves. Maybe she wears this sort of clothing to cover herself up, perhaps she feels uncomfortable wearing today's summer fashions. Not that I blame her myself, what with all the horrible clothing that is around these days.

Several young children run past her, playing a game of hide and seek while their mother frantically pushes the grocery trolley towards the dairy area. I watch, as one of the kids tumbles into the woman, causing her to nearly drop her low-fat milk. She gives him a look, which makes him turn and scamper off; in that one look, her eyebrow raises and her face becomes stern. She notices me then, shakes her head and rolls her eyes, and then she is off - heading to the front of the store.

Grabbing my carton, I follow her. She gives a small smile to the girl at the counter, makes no small-talk, pays with a debit card, and out she goes. Even the way she walks is interesting; once again she is looking, without really seeing. An interesting character indeed, this one.

We go off in different directions. As I get back in my car, I turn to the left and see a tall man folding himself into his very small car. He pulls out his cellphone; I wonder if he is calling someone else, or whether it is he that has been called.....

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Well, I tried to be as realistic about myself as I could; I do actually sing along in the car (and own an Ipod converter thingy). My hair is a part of me that I love, although it drives me crazy and ends up tied back the majority of the time. I am not a skinny person, and dress accordingly (at least, I think so!) and am a big fan of nice skirts. Oh, yes. My tolerance for children acting bratty is in the negatives. Don't judge me on that one; I get enough of them in my classroom at work. Hopefully this fit with the prompt, even though it is not exactly as the instructions hinted.

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