I have not had the need to quantify the times I have been immersed in a book, unaware of my surroundings, only for some stimulus to cause me to switch from imagination to the here and now. If pressed I would hazard a guess that it would be in the tens of thousands. Of all these occasions I cannot recall a moment like I had today.

Returned to The Walrus Bookstore and purchased The Kite Runner, for I sought a less difficult task than the one set by Jorge Luis Borges', The Aleph. Made my way to Plaza San Martin and sat down to read. I was away with the story, dream like, when I had cause to lift my gaze from the page and regain a sense of my surroundings.

Before me was a lady walking across the Plaza. She wore dark brown boots with black pants over the boots, not contained under knee high boots as seems the standard. A fitted waist length black velvet coat, her dark brown hair worn up and a pearl for each ear set against her olive skin. To say she was beautiful would not be contradicted by anyone seeing her, but the fixation for me was that, one moment lost in a story and the next given this sight, for she walked without ostentation, I felt an overwhelming joy.

I projected nothing on her, no desire to possess her or even know who she was, it was simply a delightful moment.