He had a kind face -- wrinkly, but kind. "Not at all."

"I like to come and watch the sunset whenever I can," he said. "But then it reminds me that each sunset I watch is another day gone, another day that I am closer to not being around anymore."

Wow, this guy was more depressing than I was.

"I never thought of it that way," I said. "I don't come here often."

"What brings you here today?"

"Good question," I said.

"Sometimes it's good to not have plans or reasons for doing things. Sometimes it's good to just -- how should I say? -- go with the flow."

I never thought of myself as a "go with the flow" kind of person. I liked planning things. I didn't like surprises and guesswork. This was probably the reason for being in such a dead-end job. But, why? Why didn't I do something more with my life?

"What are you thinking about?" he asked.

"My job. I hate my job."

"Well, why do you do it then? Why don't you find something else to do?"

"Because I don't know what...

I was a pretty happy kid. I liked to hike in the woods and find different treasures. Beautiful leaves and shiny agates. I used to have a wonder for life and for nature.
"Perhaps you need to spend some time alone here. Look into the sunset and imagine yourself doing what will make you happy. Find who you are. You must cultivate a relationship with yourself."

Did he just say the word "cultivate?"

I looked at him as he struggled to stand up. He put his hand out and I shook it. He smiled and wobbled away. I couldn't help but think that that was one of the strangest encounters I had ever had.

But then something dawned on me.

I reached into my purse and grabbed the small compact my grandmother had given me when I was fourteen. I opened it up and looked at myself in the mirror. Why had I not realized? I had known someone else with red hair. Someone else besides Kenny.

Me.

I had red hair.