She dressed in blue often, casual, never sloppy nor was she formal. The Sea Turtle’s eyes carried an ocean lightness to them, Bahamian breezes swishing though the waves of color in her irises. She had hair the color of tropical sands, flowing like the retreating waves lapping at the beach. The Sea Turtle had a vacation voice, laid back but with a certain energy to it, an almost rasp that carried little worry to it.
The Sea Turtle was a rare type of stranger. She was respectful and kind, someone who could treat someone completely unknown to her like a friend.
All the while, she was abundant in her presence as any stranger is. And like any stranger, any form of friendship or other ties seemed distant. However, her appearances in my memory seem much more vivid than that of the average visitor. Odd, for strangers never seem to stick in the mind of most. Faces, names. Chances are, if someone says something along the lines of, “Hey friend!”, they probably forgot about you. This is what you expect from a stranger. But The Sea Turtle was different. There were no, “Hey friend”s for she never made herself one who left your mind quickly. The Sea Turtle treated you like a friend, seemingly unknowingly, until you were one.