A Familiar Stranger
634 Words
Sarah kept walking without thinking.
The pavement under her shoes felt familiar, but her mind was still somewhere back in that classroom. Leeore’s voice. The chalk tapping the board. The silence that felt like it had weight.
She blinked once.
Then again.
Only when the sound of passing tricycles faded behind her did she finally slow down.
Something was off.
She looked around.
A row of parked cars stood a little further than she expected. Sunlight bounced off windshields like scattered mirrors.
Her steps stopped.
Then it hit her.
“Wait…”
Sarah turned slightly, eyes narrowing as she scanned the area.
She had already passed her car.
A small, frustrated breath escaped her lips. Not anger. Just that tired feeling of being too full of thoughts to notice the world properly.
She shook her head at herself.
“Focus, Sarah,” she muttered under her breath.
She walked back a few steps, this time more aware, and slipped her hand into her bag. Fingers brushed past notebooks, a pen, a folded receipt, and finally found her car keys.
The metal felt cold in her palm.
Click.
The sound was small, but it grounded her.
As she stood there, she did not move right away.
Journalist.
That word kept sitting in her head like a title she was still trying to earn instead of already owning.
She had the badge, yes. She had the assignments. She had the late nights and interviews and half written drafts saved in folders named “FINAL_FINAL_REAL_THIS_TIME.”
But she did not have the thing she wanted most.
Recognition.
Not likes. Not casual praise. Not “good job.”
Something real.
Something that made people stop and say her name with weight behind it.
She leaned against her car for a moment, looking down at the keys turning slowly in her fingers.
One big break.
That was what she kept telling herself.
One story that would change everything.
But the truth was harsher when it came quietly like this.
She did not even know what that story was yet.
Where to start.
Who to talk to.
What was worth chasing and what was just noise pretending to matter.
A jeepney passed, loud and unapologetic, shaking her thoughts slightly loose.
Sarah exhaled again, this time slower.
Maybe that classroom scene had shaken something in her. Not just memories of Mr. Brandon. Not just pride or relief.
But perspective.
People like Leeore did not wait for permission to be seen. They just proved it.
No announcement. No apology. No hesitation.
Sarah looked at her car, then at the street ahead.
“Okay,” she said softly, almost like she was talking to herself and the future at the same time. “Then I stop waiting too.”
She pressed the unlock button.
The car blinked open.
And for the first time that day, she did not feel lost.
Just not started yet.
Leeore adjusted his cuff as he moved through the glass lobby of his building, steps steady, controlled. He disliked delays, especially when people waited because of him. The elevator doors opened and he stepped in alone, eyes fixed ahead. Upstairs, his assistant was already guiding the interviewer into his office.
The meeting was simple on paper. A televised interview, questions about success, leadership, discipline. He had done dozens before, yet today felt slightly off balance.
Not because of the interview.
Because earlier, in the street, something had shifted. A face from years ago, a feeling he thought was gone, resurfaced without permission.
The elevator chimed. Doors opened. His assistant bowed slightly. “Sir, they are waiting.”
Leeore nodded once. “Let them in.”
He straightened his shoulders and walked forward, the calm CEO returning fully, even as something unspoken stayed quietly behind his eyes. No delay now.
- Writer
