Following footsteps

I'm still not arriving at the beginning. Can one arrive at the beginning? Anyway today I have felt somewhat complicated and couldn't focus on my Arabic lesson other than trance out at various poetic sounding and meaning words. Then on the way to the metro I found myself following a man. He felt simple and safe. I liked his brown jacket and his ironed trousers, I liked the balding spot on the back of his head where he had combed down his hair, I liked knowing what he had in his kitchen cupboards and how he liked his morning rituals to be. I followed him for 15 minutes and in that 15 minutes my world was simple.