The One Who Was Right There

Day 02

I wanted to tell her that I found the name of her blog to be a bit confusing. I couldn’t for my life think of a reason why a blog on baking recipes should be called A Big Pink Auto.

Day 29

I zoomed in towards her, and the screen that she was facing. She was typing a new entry for her blog. Some mashup between chocolates and martini. She rolled up the sleeves of her tee as she stopped to think. I zoomed out a bit. She was sitting cross legged, on a green cushion on her bed. She was wearing that light blue pair of shorts that I had really grown to like over these few weeks.

Day 41

She was startled out of her sleep as the cell phone rang. I zoomed in. He had arrived. She quickly stripped, fretting, cursing herself for having fallen asleep. She rummaged through her wardrobe before settling on a black skirt and a t-shirt. I saw the car, a Suzuki swift VDi, waiting in front of the house. I saw him too.

Day 43

I zoomed in on her. She was lying tummy down on her bed, her legs crossed and raised and moving. She was wearing that blue pair again. She was reading, her hair tied in a loose bun. I zoomed in on the book. It had an incredibly long name: The Hundred-Year-Old Man Who Climbed Out the Window and Disappeared.

Day 49

My eyes roamed down her long dark chestnut hair. My eyes roamed down her neck, her arms, and those endless rivulets of water. She was humming to herself a tune that I had heard her hum so many times before.

I touched her.

She didn’t turn around to look at me.

Like most others, she too couldn’t feel my presence.

Reassured, I touched her. Again.