Walking West from the Union. Between the buildings where the green groundcover grow, there sit white benches. And where this white bench sat, sat that boy. Off the path of people, sun shining on those skateboard shoes…and on that long long hair. Reading. I could see the photograph in my head. Could see how it was framed and everything. It would’ve been a beautiful picture. But one doesn’t actually put these impulses into action unless one seriously desires to be arrested on harrasssment / stalking charges. I walked by, deciding more firmly as I walked that there was no way to take the shot. Then I turned around and walked back towards him. He saw me this time.