Gazelle

STORY

He had been frequenting the café more often lately, but today was the first time he noticed her. On a bustling Wednesday afternoon, she seemed like a peaceful moment pulled straight from the pages of a novel. Seated by a sunlit window, her hair neatly tied back with an occasional strand escaping to brush against her face, she exuded a quiet grace. Her brown eyes, catching the sunlight, glowed warmly like honey. Lost in thought, she appeared both pensive and calm, as if daydreaming. Those were the words that came to his mind when he first saw her.

Her white blouse and simple khakis, her delicate hand gently stirring her tea, and her faraway gaze—everything about her was remarkably ordinary. Yet, there was something about her, as if she were a piece of art placed in a quiet corner, waiting for someone with a discerning eye and a thoughtful heart to notice her.

It had been a long time since a woman had caught his attention like this. He wondered if it was mere curiosity or perhaps something deeper. There was an air of mystery about her that intrigued him.

Just then, she lifted her tea cup to her lips, and he couldn't help but smile. His thoughts wandered to how lovely it would be to see her smile more often, perhaps even share a conversation. He imagined himself offering her a kind gesture, like handing her a napkin if she ever needed one, and laughed quietly at the thought. It was a simple, romantic notion, and he couldn't help but chuckle at the gentle fantasy playing out in his mind.

The sound of his laughter caught her attention, pulling her out of her thoughts. It was a quiet yet clear laugh, and just hearing it made her smile. She had been overwhelmed with worries, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts as she tried to escape the stress of her office during her lunch break. The café was her refuge, a place where she could find a moment of peace.

She often wondered how others saw her. Did anyone ever take notice of her in the same way she noticed them? Did she ever cross anyone's mind, even for a fleeting moment? The same questions that plagued many also troubled her. Would she ever be seen as someone special, as a muse for poetry or art, or as someone worth getting to know?

Her tea was growing cold, and with it, her spirits seemed to fade. She smiled a bittersweet smile, lost in the old love songs playing in her imagination. It was a smile filled with longing, mixed with the sadness of unspoken desires.

He wasn't prepared for that smile. It was like the sun breaking through clouds on a rainy day—unexpected and full of warmth. He watched as she gathered her things, her thoughts, and stood up to leave. As she turned to go, their eyes met. In that brief moment, her gaze seemed to tell a thousand stories—of hope, of dreams, and of a heart searching for connection.

His heart skipped a beat as he realized she was leaving. He had been so lost in his thoughts, trying to unravel the mystery in her eyes that he hadn't noticed she was already walking away. And now, all that remained of her was the unfinished cup of tea on the sunlit corner table, a reminder of the brief yet memorable moment they had shared from afar.