I looked at the two food stalls from a distance. Doughnuts? Corn dogs? I did not know which one to choose since both looked deliciously appetising.
I felt soft pricks of light drizzle begin to hit my skin, I had to make a decision quickly before I get caught in the rain. I checked the time on my wrist watch and I still had a good few minutes before my lunch break ends.
The rain began to come down a little harder, I looked left and right then scurried across the road. Suddenly out of nowhere flew a wet sheet of newspaper which slapped me across the face. I screeched in surprise then yanked the paper off my face in annoyance.
I was just about to squash the newspaper but I stopped when I heard an old male voice yell, "Don't you dare squash it!"
I turned to the left to see who it was and I saw an old man. He looked like he was in his mid seventies dressed in a huge tatty woollen coat and his grey hair tucked in his hat.
He stumbled towards me with a mixture of running and walking his right hand stretched out eager to grab and rescue the newspaper out of my grasp. I looked at him all amused as he stood in front of me out of breath. He looked at his newspaper still in my hand.
"I believe that this belongs to you." I said awkwardly then handed him the newspaper sheet. The old man took the newspaper, looked at it then looked at me. His look turned into a hypnotised stare which made me feel uncomfortable and the rain just added to it.
"Rebecca." He murmured.
I looked at him puzzled.
"Rebecca." He said again this time extending his right hand to touch my face.
I stepped back with fright avoiding his touch.
"Excuse me?" I choked feeling baffled. "You look just like her." He murmured. The old man was freaking me out and my intuition said run however my legs disobeyed me.
"What are you going on about?" I demanded.
The old man snapped back to his senses after my outbreak. I searched his face for answers however only saw an apologetic look plastered on his face.
"I'm sorry I thought that you were somebody else." He said.
"Well you thought wrong." I snapped.
The old man saddened and the rain added even more to his pitiful look. I could only imagine how terrible I looked with all the rain on my face. The old man was silent and I felt that this whole incident was a waste of my time. The old man noticed my irritation.
"God bless you." He said then left jumping on the bus.
I rolled my eyes in annoyance. I turned to leave and spotted the newspaper on the ground. I bent down, picked it up and smoothed it out ready to fold it when the picture caught my attention. I blinked a few times making sure that what I saw was real. It was.
I saw a woman's face identical to mine and below I read:
Famous classic singer who had the sweetest voice will always be remembered and missed. Rebecca Watson, 1984-2009.
The guilt and regret began to consume me. It must have been the old man's daughter. My rudeness had just opened his wounds snapping his heart. I reminded him that his daughter was dead! Rubbing it in his face.
I feel so vile. I have to apologise, I have to find him and say that I am sorry. The rain was now a shower and I was soaked. I was also late. I stuffed the newspaper in my pocket and dashed back to work.
THE END