"I saw her again." I lowered myself into the wingback
chair. My hands grabbed its arms as I leaned back and met his eyes.
"Where was it this time?" The leather chair squeaked as he leaned back, balancing the pad of paper on his knee. The glasses slid down his nose as he looked down and scribbled notes.
"No, this was real, not another dream." I looked down at the arm of the chair. I gently rubbed its suede fabric with my index finger, spelling her name in the soft tan clothe. I pushed the palm of my hand across the writing and it was gone.
"Oh, okay, how did that happen?" The scrape of the pencil across the paper stopped as he looked up at me. The hand hovered just above the pad, with pencil positioned to immediately resume writing.
"It was an accident, totally random. I was walking down a sidewalk and there she was." I held my hands out in front of me, palms facing up to emphasize the surprise.
"Were you following her again?" The tip of the pencil was now resting on his lower lip as his eyes scrutinized me.
"No, it was not planned - I swear." My right arm shot up in a ninety degree angle with palm facing the doctor - as if I was about to be sworn in.
"Well, what did she say?"
"Nothing, we didn't talk." I picked a piece of white thread from my royal blue shirt and flicked it away. I watched it float to the room's tan carpet while remembering her face as she spotted me.
"So, she didn't see you?" He wrote slowly with a furrowed brow.
"No, she saw me, or I think she did. Our eyes met, they met briefly, and that was that. I kept walking and she, well, I don't know what she did." The feathered paint on the ceiling caught my eye as I leaned back in the chair. Had the ceiling always been like that?
"Did you two communicate with your eyes?" He smirked as the question left his mouth. He pulled at the dark hairs of his mustache while watching me.
"What does that mean?"
"You said that you to had a connection which defied words." He thumbed through his notes before finding the quote and smiling at his excellent memory. He held up the pad and pointed at it, like a game of charades.
"Well, I guess there was communication. Her eyes told me to not stop walking and keep my mouth shut, so that is what I did." I frowned while replaying the chance encounter, knowing I should have stopped and said something, said anything. It was one of those moments you realize is a mistake when it happens, but it is too late to go back.
"Where was it this time?" The leather chair squeaked as he leaned back, balancing the pad of paper on his knee. The glasses slid down his nose as he looked down and scribbled notes.
"No, this was real, not another dream." I looked down at the arm of the chair. I gently rubbed its suede fabric with my index finger, spelling her name in the soft tan clothe. I pushed the palm of my hand across the writing and it was gone.
"Oh, okay, how did that happen?" The scrape of the pencil across the paper stopped as he looked up at me. The hand hovered just above the pad, with pencil positioned to immediately resume writing.
"It was an accident, totally random. I was walking down a sidewalk and there she was." I held my hands out in front of me, palms facing up to emphasize the surprise.
"Were you following her again?" The tip of the pencil was now resting on his lower lip as his eyes scrutinized me.
"No, it was not planned - I swear." My right arm shot up in a ninety degree angle with palm facing the doctor - as if I was about to be sworn in.
"Well, what did she say?"
"Nothing, we didn't talk." I picked a piece of white thread from my royal blue shirt and flicked it away. I watched it float to the room's tan carpet while remembering her face as she spotted me.
"So, she didn't see you?" He wrote slowly with a furrowed brow.
"No, she saw me, or I think she did. Our eyes met, they met briefly, and that was that. I kept walking and she, well, I don't know what she did." The feathered paint on the ceiling caught my eye as I leaned back in the chair. Had the ceiling always been like that?
"Did you two communicate with your eyes?" He smirked as the question left his mouth. He pulled at the dark hairs of his mustache while watching me.
"What does that mean?"
"You said that you to had a connection which defied words." He thumbed through his notes before finding the quote and smiling at his excellent memory. He held up the pad and pointed at it, like a game of charades.
"Well, I guess there was communication. Her eyes told me to not stop walking and keep my mouth shut, so that is what I did." I frowned while replaying the chance encounter, knowing I should have stopped and said something, said anything. It was one of those moments you realize is a mistake when it happens, but it is too late to go back.
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