one of these things is not like the other.

I saw this girl today, saw her sitting in the sun like she had come straight out of the university calender. I saw her just outside the CAP Building, sitting on the stone benches that surround the Orion statues with the blue lights on top. She was wearing some cutesy shirt and a denim skirt, the kind that hang just below the knees. Her legs were uncrossed and tan. Her hair, brown, was in a ponytail, and she was talking animatedly and happily on her cell phone.

But her knee, her left knee was bleeding. Scraped like she had been climbing trees or running on pavement and met with an accident. Scraped like she was five years old, blood running down her shin. I wondered how she had come to obtain such an injury. I wondered why she didn't go inside the building and at least clean it. I wondered if she even realized her broken skin dilemma. I even considered saying something brilliant to her, such as, "Hey, you sure are bleeding!" or offering her a bandage of some sort. Then my amazing sense of anti-social logic intervened, and I decided that if she was that chipper, the wound certainly wasn't bothering her, and I continued on my way.

I hope she didn't die.