Gift

It was strange. If they had noticed--but then, it was surprising, really, how rarely this occurred--they probably wouldn't have gone beyond a cursory glance. She wasn't extraordinary, by anyone's standards. Her face was mostly unremarkable, and she was short and slight enough to slip by largely ignored.

And then again, it wasn't something you could notice, really--more like the absence of something to be remarked on. It is always harder to see something that isn't really there.

But if they had noticed--they would have heard the silence. It was tangible thing, that quiet, full of awareness and intent. It was steady and listening, curious and thoughtful. She carried it with her. Even her booted feet, striding along effortlessly, wending a sure path through every crowd, made absolutely no tread on the sidewalk.

Once in a great while, this stillness would brush past an individual and lift the hair on the back of his neck. He would start, and turn, and wonder for a moment what had happened. Once in a great while, she would be looking over her shoulder, meeting his gaze for a brief moment before she disappeared into the crowd like a quiet ghost.

If anyone had noticed.