The pale woman

My name is James. I am a bookstore employee living in Michigan.

That said, I would like to talk about something very peculiar that happened to me several years ago.

It was a crisp midwinter evening, and I was walking home from the local café, where I had been writing poetry. I was nearly at my home when I noticed someone with white hair and ragged winter clothes, bent over and digging through a pile of trash in an alleyway. I was prepared to write it off and continue walking when the stranger turned around, revealing themself to be a young woman with pure white eyes.

When I awoke in a nearby park several hours later, I realized I was clasping my hands tight over my ears, though I could not remember why.

I know that I forgot something that day. I know, deep in my heart, that when I met her, I lost something.

I do not know what I lost. I do not even know why I think I forgot something that night, save for the fact that all I remember of her face was the sight of her pale and empty eyes.