A soft wintry breeze occasionally blows on my face. It refreshes the ambiance, urging me to take deeps breaths. As I exhale I can observe my breath unfurl then slowly rise before another gust of crisp clear wind sweeps it away. I sit for a few moments and watch my breath appear, disappear and reappear. Every exhalation is nearly identical to the last.
I turn my attention skyward. There are no clouds lingering; the sun hangs lonely above me to the left. The warmth from his light creates a pleasant balance with the brisk biting breeze.
My mood is calm, content and unnerved. I hope she arrives soon.
I saw her for the first time just two weeks ago at this same location. I had a troubling day at work and decided I needed to clear my head. I took my lunch early, grabbed a book that I had just started reading a few days earlier and drove off looking for a quiet place to read. I came across a small park just half a mile from the office. It was empty when I arrived and had a simple setup. I walked around until I found a place to settle. A solid white picnic table was somewhat hidden from the rest of the park and far enough from the main street so that most of the noise from traffic could be drowned out by the sound of the wind rustling the leaves on the trees. I sat down on the bench by the table and immersed myself in my reading.
I'm not sure when she got there. In fact, I can't even be sure if she got there before or after I did. I didn't notice her until after I had been reading for thirty minutes. I had taken my eyes off my book so that I could check the time and confirm how much longer I had before heading back to work. I took my eyes off the book, glanced at my watch and calculated how much time I had left. As I tried to figure out if I should start the next chapter I began looking around me. It was then that I saw her sitting in the shade of a pine tree no more than fifteen feet to the right of where I sat at the table.
She sat on the grass distractedly toying with her hair with one hand and holding up a book with the other. I observed her intently and was fascinated and excited to be able to watch her, knowing that she was so absorbed in her book that she wouldn't notice. Every time she folded over a page she would stop playing with her hair, bite her lower lip and begin turning the page before being done with the last few words. I could tell because she would turn the pages very slowly at first and once finished with the last sentence abruptly fold over the page. She would then bring her hand back up to her hair and resume twirling the exact same strand of hair.
It suffices to state that she was very pretty. Fair skin, thin rose colored lips. Flowing light brown hair resting on her shoulders. Her eyes were almond shaped and colored. There was an air of elegance to her posture. But I was most attracted to her movements. She looked so gentle.
I wanted to walk over and talk to her. I wanted to touch her hand, smell the aroma of her hair and hear her voice. I wanted to know what book she was reading and what she thought of it. I wanted to find out what her name was. But I also didn't want to disturb her peace. I was thrilled by her character and movements and fought the urge to interrupt her charm.
But at last, it was time to head back. As I shifted my weight to stand up my movement alerted her and she looked up and smiled. She had a warm gentle smile and it stunned me. I smiled back and then realized that I had paused and forgot that I was leaving. I think she may have realized it because her smile widened for an instant becoming even brighter. She blushed lightly before turning her attention back to the book.
Now here I am two weeks later sitting on the same picnic table. I'm hoping to see her again. I want to introduce myself this time. I just hope I'm not too mesmerized by her again or I may end up unable to approach her.
/fiction
