Have you ever experienced a completely unremarkable day that turned into one that you will never forget? His story sets stage in New York City, along with mine. We were on the street corner of Chelsea Avenue in Manhattan. The graffiti was sprawled across the walls of the old alleyways that shone brightly with unknown spray paint can Picasso’s. I saw him at the corner coffee shop as I would every morning before eight am. He would order a regular coffee with milk, and would always speak quietly when placing his order. He acted almost as if talking was a crime. He was tall… some would even go as far to describe him as gangly like a human asparagus. He had messy chestnut hair that fell over his eyes, and milky white skin so pale that he almost looked anemic. He wore a brown sheepskin jacket with and had metallic horned rim glasses. He is the type of person, that the rest of society dismisses, he is a living breathing visible ghost.

I would always smile as we stood together each morning waiting for our coffees to be served. He had an over the shoulder back pack, that always seemed to be pregnant with his art supplies. I would never think too much of our meetings because I have a rather unique mind that tends to wander. This tends to make communication rather difficult for people to start conversations with me. I noticed the array of rainbow acrylic paints speckled all over his ripped up jeans. I chuckled to myself as I began to consider the fact that he was a masterpiece of his own. I asked him if he was outside in a paint hurricane. He laughed, and blushed a deep raspberry hue. He smiled at me and said, “Well that’s just a circumstance of my passion. Sometimes I like to think that the colours are bits of my personality trying to peek through with sunlight…kind of like a stained glass window canvas. I’d like to think that I am an artist, but that would be very presumptuous to assume that I have even a bit of talent.” I was taken aback because he spoke so poignantly and honestly… in a way that most people would be too afraid to say for fear of being named as insane. I smiled and introduced myself, “Hi my name is Roxy. I see you here every morning, before I have to drag myself to the monotony of a bleak office that sucks the potential out of my future.” He reached out his hand to shake mine and whispered, “Well it certainly is a pleasure to meet you Roxy, my name is Gavin…. Hopefully we will run into each other more often.

I nodded in agreeance as I flipped my long brown hair out of my eyes and waved goodbye. He picked up his coffee and started off towards his destination, taking long strides with his Giraffe-esque legs onto the street. He looked behind and waved farewell as the sun shined down on his eyes blinding him from the oncoming vehicular carnage that crashed into him; like a soaring butterfly that was brought down by the ironed fist of an angry little boy. "GAVIN WATCH OUT" I screamed so loud in absolute horror as it was to late to save him. Every muscle in my body tensed up like tightly wound guitar string, I was on the precipice of snapping like one too as the heavy tears rolled down my baby cheeks. I stared at horror at the backpack that was now hemorrhaging acrylics onto the hot pavement. Time seemed to slow down like a mouse stuck in a glue trap, as I struggled to make sense of the the situation. I ran to his side and held him in my quivering arms, as his blood flowed from his head like volcano erupting onto the sidewalk. My tears rolled from my eyes like a waterfall. We lay there momentarily caked in the blood and tears, this is how our story begins. Two strangers, woe, and the two liquids that bind all human beings together in the most awful of situations.

His pulse chugged lazily in his palm, like a speedboat that had run of gasoline. I wrapped my fingers around his, and I begged him to wake up from his painful slumber. The sound of people shouting around me was silenced as I wiped the hair from his eyes and whispered that that I would watch him and ensure that everything would be alright. Perhaps I was just voicing my current stream of thought to soothe my own anxieties. The paramedics swooped around me like earthbound angels and I arose with them to the direction of the ambulance. I grabbed the contents of his bag, that had strewn all over the ground like the aftermath of an earthquake.

The red haired paramedic with spiked hair insistently shouted that he needed Gavin's emergency contacts. He asked quite hastily whether or not Gavin had any close family.”Does he have any emergency contact numbers.” I leaned down and flipped quickly through the inserts of his wallet. Gavin had collected a variety of four leaf clovers, and condoms. He had an old picture that’s edges were etched through wear and tear of daily life of a baby and a woman from so many years before. There was nothing. "There is nothing, all I have of his is this." I practically whispered hoping that this fact was the furthest thing from the truth. "Well there is nothign we can do now, hop in and let's save this mans life now shall we.... Life and death waits on no man" The firey paramedic motioned me forward and the sirens of resounded all around me. I felt like I was trapped in an alternate reality.... It was so surreal. My vision became blurred with tears, and panic. I finally understood what they meant by horse blinders, when the spinning reality of the situation rushed over me like a giant wave from the ocean get's in your mouth and makes you choke from surprise. I had never been around anyone so close to their own nearing death. I prayed, with my head bent over and my pressed palms in my lap for the first time in my life. I prayed to every god, goddess, alien, predator, it really didn't at that point seem to matter. Gavin was the kind of guy that only wanted to make his mark on this world, one person one conversation at a time. I would truly miss our early morning interactions, and I would always be searching for a smile made me feel beautiful and perfect even at my most critical of times.

He lay in the hospital bed so peacefully like a cat laid out in a sunbeam, I had to look away because of the terrible gash the accident made on his head. His milky porcelain skin, looked like someone had taken a bottle of wine and glass so violently tossed against ceramic floor.