The faint sound of stilettos grew quiet as I walked outside the silver automatic doors with spotless glass.  The janitor, Grey, always treated them with such care.  He was a young gentleman, I believe 32, well groomed.   His uniform was always pressed, his shoes were polished with a shine that could be seen at night, and he wore a pink beanie with a white Daisy on it.  People laugh when they saw the hat, but he never let it bother him.  He just smiled, although his eyes carried pain.  Pain from his daughter.  She was in the hospital.  That’s her hat.  She might not make it.

I observed the busy streets.  It was always busy at this time of day.  The sun’s thin reddish-orange glow faded as the shimmering stars populated the sky.  People drove recklessly on the pothole-infested road.  Someone crashed into another person.  He got out of his car and screamed, although it was his fault.  People like that grind my gears.  The entitlement.

"What’s that?"  At the end of the unkept block, a tall woman was singing. I ambled closer; her voice was inviting. Her breathy tone was soothing, and a small crowd formed around her.  They stared. Her bronze skin was flawless; I reached to touch her but stop myself from doing so. I looked around to see if anyone noticed; they didn’t. Their eyes were closed as they swayed in an odd unison to her voice. I turned back to the woman, and she was looking at me. The streetlight turned on above her as the sun faded out. She was stunning. I felt myself sinking; Her hazel eyes hypnotized me.