I only saw her from behind. White high-heeled sandals, tight, tight - can’t even walk in it - denim skirt, T-shirt, hair up, bag slung across her shoulder. Was it designer? Was it designer from TJ Maxx? Or was it a Target imitation? My mind wanders… man or woman? I see her stumble… arm comes out for balance. She recovers, hips swaying back and forth as though she is a runway model. I giggle. How much does she cost? What sorority is she in? Why is she dressed that way for class? All the while she thinks she looks glamorous, and I think she looks cheap. What’s my punishment for thinking these things…? When did I become so shallow? She doesn’t even know I am behind her. To her I don’t even exist. Can I take back all the thoughts that went through my head? She is too far away. Am I cheap?