An urban conundrum
Wherein the author reflects on her non-response to an unusual sight.
The day the naked man ran past my window, I was in my home, minding my own business, thinking about what to make for dinner.
It was about 4 o’clock, I was considering the options for the night’s menu, and out of the corner of my eye, I caught a flash of movement outside the living room window.
And when I took a closer look, I saw a naked man jogging past.
A bit of context: we live in the city, in a townhouse with ground-floor access, on a one-block, low traffic street that terminates in a short laneway. From that lane, if you don’t mind speed-bumps you can access various parking lots and get to the next block.
There’s a lot of foot traffic on this bit of road: people coming and going from a main transit route and a light rail station just three blocks away.
But in the 15 years we’ve lived here, all the people I’ve seen going to and fro outside our place have always been wearing clothes.
Until today.
This chap seemed to be in his own little world. He turned the corner into the lane, with a slow and steady stride, not apparently bothered by the fact that his feet (and everything…