Walking

A woman, quite ordinary, maybe by some’s standards pretty and, by some who know her, beautiful while by others maybe childish or odd, was strolling daily in a manner that offered no hurriedness and yet, with a focus and attention to her steps and, mostly, to her surroundings, in a city unfamiliar to her. She was yet again in a new town, in a new vibe, in a new everything, though really on the surface. It was nearly the same in all its essentials. 

Except for the excessive number of various remarks, gestures, looks, and intentions exhibited by the passing men on her daily, unhurried, mile-long walk. In a span of 30 minutes or so, the range or the spectrum of emotions and subtle walking speed fluctuations would cover a broad array, all sensed steps away from the approaching body.

It was quite a study on her behalf to be witness to all the strata of the male species in just a few steps. It was also quite an unwanted confirmation that safety and luxurious ease were not the foreground experience.  It would definitely be easier to live among joyful flowers than among unconscious desire, drunkenness, and prejudice. 

The above walks did not exclude the non-occasional, even more animated demonstration of the inner monologue coming from the fairer sex - contradiction obviously noted - not toward her, but more as a general expression. She was just the receiver of the sweetness or utter disregard for basic consideration and decency for the other simply by being in the vicinity. 

When will the walk among humans become like a walk akin to that among swaying and singing fields of flowers?