She held a portfolio under her arm ... art-conscious ... I liked that! She stood some 20 yards distant of me. My eyes traveled over her long, smooth, dark brown hair, down over her neck and down the back of her white blouse, to stare at her legs and shoes below her knee-length skirt. Her shoes were more a kind of small, short, gray leather boots, leading from their distinct clumsy outline to the conclusion, that club feet were to hamper the walk of this woman. Her left boot was a few centimeters higher than the other, and covered the lower part of a metal brace. This walking aid, equipped with leather sleeves, supported her left, weaker leg up to her hip, and fixed it stiff. At the back part of this orthesis at the height of her knee was a mechanism to allow her to bend the brace and her leg, when she wanted to sit down.

Stunned by my excitement, I watched her. She parted from the others and left the group. I saw her pretty face, emphasized by high cheekbones and a sensual mouth. Fascinated and led by a strange force I followed her. Tender feelings and a strong excitement ruled my emotions, but also the fear, to be detected to be a voyeur. 0n the other hand, I would have liked to contact her. But I didn't know how, and with which explanation ... and with my feeble knowledge of Spanish language.

Her gait was fascinating. Her right foot had also to be limited in function by some kind of paresis. She dangled it forward, shifted her weight upon her right side, and this way she could swing her left braced leg over the ground one step ahead. So she had a swaying walk, tilting her body more to her left, more disabled side. She crossed boldly a broad street, limped through a small forest towards a bus-stop, and waited there. I would have liked to take the bus together with her, but reality was against me. I had to find my way back to my accommodation, and could not frighten my waiting travel companion.