Christmas Mystery

We dared to step out into the bustling city, my breath forming clouds in winter’s chilly air. It’s December, and the city's adorned with Christmas lights, wreaths, garlands, and overly decorated Christmas trees with gold ornaments. Christmas music floated out of every café and shop as we passed them. We strolled up and down the streets from one clothing shop to the other, and after just an hour, we had bags full of winter fashion and accessories that promised to add flair to any outfit. We didn’t talk much; I felt alone; he was simply a protective presence and guide and my credit card, of course. A credit card that I would have to pay off later in bed or maybe somewhere else, but that’s something for the future me to worry about. This is how it’s been for the past year or so, and I loved how he still showered me with red roses, restaurant dinners, and Dior and Chanel and Parda, but something was still missing in our relationship or perhaps life.
We kept walking through the cold and crowded streets; my mind numbed as I let the faces and blinding lights come at me. Red, green, and gold hues pulsing and twinkling in a rhythmic tempo. The steel cars slithered by on the wet, slushy street, rushing to dinner reservations, meetings, or home, but everyone was wrapped up in their own busy world. Suddenly, I felt an uneasy feeling growing in the pit of my stomach as we made our way through the crowded sidewalk—a sense of being watched.
As we continued down the sidewalk, we bumped into a young man, a penniless, homeless man wearing soiled and tattered clothes. But he didn’t ask us for money, utter a word, or even an apology. There was something different about this man, though; for a moment, he was all that stood out amidst the crowd and chaos; there was a silent strength in him and an aura of mystery surrounding him. Glaring intently at me, his piercing blue eyes glimmered with emotion or wisdom. My boyfriend tugged at my arm, pulling me through the crowd of people, but I couldn’t help but let my gaze linger a little longer on the man; I looked back, watching him disappear into the crowd behind us. Something inside me wanted to pursue him, get to know him, and hear his story, but I reluctantly let my boyfriend keep pulling me forward.