She stood so near to me, I was so sure this time. I could feel her. I could see her so close to me, although in a literal sense. I could feel the incense of her body. A mixed aroma of her partially wet hair, wide lips, and a budding young body. We stood there, besides each other, discussing routine stuff, which is always discussed. What was new and exceptional, was her smile, a gesture, seen while she was talking. That enlightened the moment and gave it a sense of purity. A cheerful expression and a glow in her face when I cracked a joke.
All I wanted was to make her smile. Smiles are worthy. I somehow knew but never realized this before. It really works. I stood there, static, watching her smile, a line of white teeth visible behind pink and sensuous lips. Her hair, tied at her back with few strands falling on her shoulder on the front. Her soft hands were moving, while she was speaking, as if she was a magician and casting a spell on me. This was all so real. I could not feel anything no more. This was a sense of achievement.
She finished what she had to and took a leave. I was suddenly taken aback. I did not want to show her that I missed her presence, which was painful but an ingenious experience for me. I did not want to let her go. Nobody could let go of the moments which filled their lives with so much joy. I could do no more. I had to let her go. I did not say anything, not a word. All I did was to see her leave.
She left on time, completing what she had to. It was as per plan and anticipated and cannot be retailored. Blocked calendars are never modified, except for other priority requirements sometimes, to move something pre or post, or to replace one appointment with another. They are never altered to occupy moments like this. Outlook or Squirrel has not yet worked on software’s to plan moments of bliss. They can only plan business meetings. Let’s hope for them to do better in the future.
I only kept thinking about her. She was so complete in her presence. She made me feel happy. She made me feel myself. I could not say anything or move. There was no hurry, in her actions, but a finishing. She was not an amateur. She was a professional, used to this world. She knew the rules. Not that she had no feelings, but she did not express it, or may be hid them so well, that nobody could find out. At least I could not. Then I got busy thinking about when I could see her next.