talking to the girl... by `cweeks

Morning Delights

“So tell me about her!” pleaded Marie. I have told her about my thoughts towards the piano lady and she seemed intrigued by the new piece of information. It felt as though I have broken the routine of every day; I have become a case study in her psychology book.

“The situation is rather complex,” I told her.

“Tell me,” she said. She leaned forward, her hand held her chin. I paced slowly about, my eyes on her.

“It is complex,” I started, not knowing what to say. I really have not thought about it fully. “Because I do not understand the situation objectively,” I managed.

“Oh, but why would you not go for it? It is rare that someone would get this feeling.”

“On the contrary, I am constantly bombarded with affection towards other people. I love at incalculable lengths. Friendship is goodness, love is beauty. The two drive my thoughts.” I have remembered at that moment what I have always been told: Please think carefully. But not with your heart. How would anyone understand…

“You are an exceptional man,” she said encouragingly.

“You are an exceptional woman,” I replied, and lifting the mood I added “with what you are dressing!”

“Oh, stop it,” she said, blushing and laughing. But she was an exceptional woman. Her soul was pure with her love to support other people. Her presence in the building, the neighborhood, and life has surely made a significant impact on the lives of many. She was truly someone to be admired.

“So what do you plan to do today?” she asked. She leaned forward even more. It was interesting to observe people’s physical movements and how they animate in conversations. Her hair above her ears refused to remain seated there, and she had to force the stray ends back into position every now and then. Marie was truly someone who would bring a smile to whoever looked upon her. Her aura filled the entirety of the room with her kindness.

“Perhaps I will write a poem, or draw,” I mused.

“You seem to have the hands of an artist!” she said smiling. Her flattery was almost exhausting.

“Then perhaps you would allow me to paint for you windows on the walls, and a garden, so that whenever you feel that the weather has dimmed, you would imagine yourself sitting in your cabin amidst the meadows.”

“That would be wonderful!” she glowed, clasping her hands together. I could feel her urge to hug me, and I had an urge to hug her as well. But we both refrained, and for a moment anyone who would have walked in might have thought that I was to propose.

“It is a promise then!” I pledged. Her eyes brightened, and her smile covered her face completely. “I will see you soon.”

“I shall be looking forward to it,” she bid me farewell and walked me to the door outside. She was too lovely.

The world was alive outside. The people marched to their respective missions; some seemed to hurry to work, others seemed relaxed and were set to have a snack. Some others simply roamed around, scouting an invisible ornament, and there were a few wailing kids happily following a soccer ball, only to shoot it again and resume the chase.

I roamed around the neighborhood, assuming the role of an aimless tourist. The world seemed was spectacular in its normality. Nothing was extraordinarily beautiful and that was the beautiful aspect of the day.

Image Credit: talking to the girl… by `cweeks