— Why are you like that?
— Like what?
— You’ve got this look on your face… So friendly…
— …
— It doesn’t really matter to you, does it?
A conversation with a friend a few days ago. I suppose so, ‘it doesn’t really matter’.
In the previous one, I think I made it clear who had interrupted me, didn’t I? She’s… well… I’d say. I’ve already settled into my new spot, right at the back here. As I’d already mentioned, the atmosphere here is warm and ‘pleasant’, unlike… over there, just a few centimetres away from her… Along the main corridor there are bookshelves, where hundreds of books rest (without any great ‘variety’). I’ve already picked up a few books, and I’m still looking for more; however, this search led to an… ‘unwelcome’ encounter (damn party). She was coming up the stairs, with her heavy rucksack, clutching a pile of papers (were they really just innocent or ‘polite’ offers?). Spotting me, she looked at me for a few brief seconds. It wasn’t contempt, it was weariness; her eyes were heavy and her expression neutral. She went into the room next door. (Probably too tired to react in any way.)
I realise it’s a bit late, but:
— She was looking at you…
— What…?
— She was looking up in your direction whilst you had your head down, reading. From where I was standing, I thought your ‘glances’ had met again, but then I realised you had your head down.
— We’re… in a situation where that wouldn’t be possible…
— But mate… it looked as if she’d realised I’d noticed and stopped. I can’t say if it was co–
— Let’s just leave it at that!
This was a few days after the… letter… anyway… I interpreted it… (Should I point out that I’ve no idea what the reasons are?).
Despite what I initially said, I’m happy. I was just told that she’d noticed the smile I’m not hiding as I write this. The reason? The architect—no, the instigator of high-risk ideas in my mind—has recently been granted more than enough motivation for the present.
Cynical chasms at this time of day… Would that be wise? I reckon it won’t be long before I find out.