Her Lover's Diary

I remember that day with sharp clearness. It was September. The weather was cool. Not really autumn-cold, wet or uncomfortable, but Indian-summer cool, with a shade of falling leaves. It was morning, everybody was hurrying to work. The first thing I saw was your hand. It found itself next to mine when we stood near a pedestrian crossing. We both wanted to press the button to light the green colour. Yes, our hands met, and you were the first to press that button. I touched your hand slightly, then looked at you. And you looked at me. I smiled at you, and you smiled looking away. I remember walking on the pedestrian crossing. I was listening to your steps, the sound of your heels on the road. I was looking ahead of me, and you did, too. On the other side of the road you looked back at me. I looked at you.  Then somebody called you. I stood there without moving, watching you. You looked back again, twice. Your eyes seemed to call me, appealing me, and repulsing me, at the same time. And then you disappeared in the crowd...

Killing Me Softly