"And I thought about how amazing it is that you can know somebody for sixty years and yet still not really know that person at all."

Craigslist, the wildly popular US classifieds site, is rarely noted for being a place to go for high quality e-literature. Mostly, it's just people selling goods and services or looking for jobs or romantic partners - par for the course when it comes to the classifieds. Sure, it's often the home of some very amusing advertisements - some intentionally satirical, others unknowningly ridiculous. Occasionally, there's a disturbing listing or two that most browsers would probably be best not responding to.

This week, however, marks one of the first times - if not the only time - that Craigslist housed a surprisingly great piece of writing. Missed Connections is the section where Craigslist users can seek out people they may have shared a romantic moment with, hoping that other they'll stumble across the ad. It contains the usual mix of romantics and stalkers (as ever, a very fine line), but one poster has come up with something a little more articulate.

More reminiscent of something like Murakami's On Seeing the 100% Perfect Girl One Beautiful April Morning than your typical creepy 'Ya Big Ride' classified in the Metro, it's a poignant, intelligent and philosophical tale of one man's crippling shyness after seeing a beautiful stranger on the subway. The Village Voice thinks they have uncovered the true author, but there's no need to spoil the mystery for yourself.

Here's a sample of the piece, or you can read the entirety of the short story here. It's several cuts above what passes for literary romance these days (yes, we're looking at you, Fifty Shades / Twilight):

For sixty years, we sat in that car, just barely pretending not to notice each other. I got to know you so well, if only peripherally. I memorized the folds of your body, the contours of your face, the patterns of your breath. I saw you cry once after you'd glanced at a neighbor's newspaper. I wondered if you were crying about something specific, or just the general passage of time, so unnoticeable until suddenly noticeable. I wanted to comfort you, wrap my arms around you, assure you I knew everything would be fine, but it felt too familiar; I stayed glued to my seat.