You smile at me, such a friendly smile, it even reaches your eyes.

I can not remember the color of your eyes, only the joy of living that resides in your curious gaze.

You look like you belong at a ranch, taming unruly horses, while whistling a carefree tune and chewing on a straw of grass. Β Even your damn chestnut hair shows joy of life, the way it is wild and curly and a bit too long.

You were born to live in worn jeans and a cowboy hat.

Yet, here you stand behind a counter, selling me special things I can not find anywhere else.

My cheeks flaming when I remind myself you are much younger than me and that this smile of yours is not meant for me, but for all your customers. Perhaps you recognize me a bit and it is only a smile of recognition.

Damn it! Why didn’t I bother to look my best going here today.

Then perhaps this would not be a quasi flirt, a figment of my imagination.

Then perhaps, this connection could feel real.

It doesn’t matter. You gave me something priceless today.

Hope.

 


(* Not all posts in the Fragments series are necessarily dark and sad. Sometimes something else will glimmer, underneath all that… Β Fragments is a series of shorter posts dealing with the aftermath of my previous narcissistic relationship).