Dodging And Weaving
There comes a time when perambulating along a footpath that it becomes necessary to adopt a physical representation of a squeezed sponge.
I was out on was such a perambulation to remind my body that it is actually supposed to move. My limbs are connected by joints that can rotate and flex. Rather than stay in a fixed, ready to type position.
There I was, happening along the footpath, and doing my very best not to walk over all the parked vehicles. I say parked, I believe the word “abandoned with purpose” would be closer.
The sun was out, doing its best to be summer-like. The sky was blue in a way that suggested it would rather not be, and the air was warm like a damp cloth. I looked up to avoid another parked vehicle. And there she was, a lady approaching from the opposite direction.
The human brain is a computational machine of incredible responsiveness. In a matter of seconds, mine had calculated her perambulation pace was slow, mine was quicker, but, we would still end up in front of each other, not able to move left or right, because of the parked vehicle.
I walked around the car, on the road. The lady stayed on the footpath. There was no awkward stoppage for either of us.
We shared a little smile.