The Black Glove

I'd like to share with you an unusual experience I had Tuesday that developed from the "silent walk" we took. During my walk with Zuzana something caught my eye: a lady's black leather glove lying palm up on the sidewalk near the gutter. I stopped and looked at it for several seconds. It appeared to be abandonned, vulnerable to passing feet. I considered picking it up but didn't because the owner might come back for it.

After class I headed to classroom services to check out a camera, and sure enough the black glove was still lying on the sidewalk in the exact same spot. After signing out the camera, I felt compelled to retrace my steps and take pictures of the glove. It had curled into a new, more self-protective position, probably from being scuffed at by passers-by. I had snapped two downward shots when a voice behind me asked, "Excuse me, is that your glove?" Surprised, I turned to face a serious-looking, tall, blond young woman. I responded that it wasn't mine, that I was just taking a few pictures. I asked her if she wanted it. She nodded, bent over and gently picked it up.

I watched her green-clad figure disappear into the direction from which I had come, the black glove held in her right hand. I felt an odd sense of relief knowing that the glove was given a second chance. In retrospect, though, I regret not asking her why she wanted it. I'm sure there was a story there somewhere.