A Pillar of Salt

Wow! That was incredible! It was abstract and that's why I liked it! It was short and I wanted to know more. I felt left in suspense but that may have been your goal. It actually works. I love the language! The way you described the man and the woman was beautifully done.
she collapsed. She collapsed, her withered arms clinging to a lamppost, her head falling into her chest, her eyes still following him.

He didn’t turn back.
You said collapsed twice. I would suggest picking a different word.
Though she was running – she was dying – she did not follow him, instead watching him with betrayed eyes and exhausted lips. That line was stunning! I love how you said "I think I felt uncomfortable" I love it because there is a sense of uncertainty through this story. That seems to be the theme so that line is fitting.

I am deeply fascinated by the personal vignette- a finite, transient moment in time compressed and then sustained for an audience. A moment or collection of moments that are individually anomalous but collectively universal. Like snowflakes. This “snow flake” quality is extremely prevalent in your piece. It was so strangely, delicately intimate. When I read it I could relate to it. I felt as though I could have been there, that it could have happened to me. But at the same time I could easily hone in on the emotional impact it had on you personally. That it was uniquely significant to you- the purveyor and the author, in a way it would never be to me- the voyeur and the reader. I felt free, as your audience, to develop my own sentimental paraphrastic and come to my own conclusions.

This paragraph was particularly arresting.

And behind him, there she was. She was a woman, much older than him, maybe in her late forties, though she had so much make up on that it was hard to tell. But, though she tried to hide herself, tears streaked down her painted face, and, as she raced after him, her sagging breasts leapt with every step she took. She was running, but her steps were lop-sided and took so much effort that it looked like every breath she took, she was gasping for a scream. But she did not follow him. Though she was running – she was dying – she did not follow him, instead watching him with betrayed eyes and exhausted lips. And she screamed. She screamed at him and yelled so hard that I could hear her frightened cries pelt the glass and I could not help but to tilt my head away from her. But she continued screaming, though this time her shoulders sagged and as I continued watching her, she collapsed. She collapsed, her withered arms clinging to a lamppost, her head falling into her chest, her eyes still following him.

However while the center of your piece is rich and condensed the introductory paragraph and the conclusion seem slightly diluted. You may have written them this way in order to accentuate the focus or dramatic highlight of the story- the woman, but a little extra cursory detail would certainly be a treat.

I wish this sunset was more specifically characterized so that I could sink my teeth more deeply into it.

It is not by choice. If I could, I would delete the memory entirely, taking away the vivid details and replacing it with a sunset. Because there was a sunset, and a pretty one at that. The sky was a dusky gray, soon to be a deep black, but there were streaks of pink and orange that could not be hidden, even from the blinding car lights rushing off to somewhere else.

Altogether I really enjoyed your story.