Bicycling around Washington DC

She waited for the light to turn, the setting sun casting a long shadow in front of her.

Nineteen seconds, eighteen seconds, seventeen seconds….

The crosswalk light counted down the time left before plodding pedestrians would start annoying drivers. She usually ran through low-trafficked intersections like this when she was on her bike. Something told her to wait out this light.

Thirteen seconds, twelve seconds, eleven seconds….

No oncoming cars. No people. Just a lone bicyclist heading north. Even from this distance it was easy to see he rode a bike with ridiculously large handlebars, the kind that should have pink streamers flowing out of them. He looked like he belonged at the beach: no helmet, open shirt, flip flops. She wondered what he cradled in his right arm. Dinner? Books?

Five seconds, four seconds….

She looked at him. He looked at her. They locked eyes and smiled.

One second….