I saw somebody on the street yesterday that I almost knew very well. It was a man with a kind and interesting face. Too bad we had never met before. We might have been very close friends if only we had met. When I saw him I almost felt like stopping and suggesting that we have a drink and talk about old times, mutual friends and acquaintances: Whatever happened to so and so? and do you remember the night when we…?
The only thing missing was that we had shared no old times together to talk about because you have to meet somebody before you can do that.
The man walked by me without any recognizing expression. My face wore the same mask, but inside I felt as if I almost knew him. It was really a shame that the only thing that separated us from being good friends was the stupid fact that we had never met.
We both disappeared in opposite directions that swallowed any possibility of friendship.
- “The Tomb of the Unknown Friend” from The Tokyo Montana Express by Richard Brautigan