The Road Between Them
She felt a painful squeeze in her chest and reached out her hand to the rain to divert her attention. The water felt cold on her palm, but it felt nothing compared to the cold the man sitting on a bench across from her probably felt.
His head hung low as he leaned on his knees and he was soaking wet. Beside him lay forgotten a boquet of beautiful flowers. She thought she saw tears streaming down his face despite the rain.
The sight pulled on her heartstrings. She hated that she could feel "secondhand emotions" every time. And she didn't even know what made the guy sad in the first place! Regardless, the sight was morbidly beautiful that she found herself lifting the camera that hung on her neck and taking a picture of him.
When she brought the camera back down and stared at the guy again -- this time with no other lens in between them but her naked eyes -- her heart thudded hard against her chest. She swore that it was impossible for the man to hear the soft shutter as she took his picture. The road between them must have been at least 10 meters wide.
It was impossible, she thought.
But with the asphalt road separating them, their eyes met.
This time, she could feel his pain a thousandfold and she didn't know why.
The story was a loose English translation of a story by Jhing Bautista entitled "The Artist". Also, the drawing was in pencil and slightly edited with the phone. I missed drawing and storytelling so much, I just had to do this!