Love

In the moment I saw her, all else was forgotten.

She wasn’t pretty.

She was really, really, really attractive though.

Delusion was easy. She was wearing bright red, and I was wearing bright blue. We stood out like beacons in a sea of non-descript greys and whites.

She was looking out of the window with determined intensity.

The hair! Just staring at it was mesmerizing, even across the great divide that separated us. Hints of brown and blonde highlights wove in and out whimsically in lines of straight, loose hair that artfully covered part of her face.

I refused to go further in. I shoulder charged a guy into submission when he attempted to force me to do so.

Her skin had that perfect golden tone. Those intensely beautiful eyes were unadorned and better for it. Finely sculpted eyebrows scurried underneath the tresses.

I tried to make eye contact without appearing to do so. What was I but a spot of evanescent colour in an oil spill? One day the brown would go, or spread into me and I would be nothing. I brusquely nudged an unfortunate fellow in the ribs when he blocked my line of sight.

Her face was a picture of disdain, and my heart nearly burst. It was all I could do to not rush in and propose my everlasting love. Her full cheeks, that complemented her otherwise thin face impossibly well, puffed slightly as she chewed on gum.

I’m sure the conductor caught me staring. I didn’t care. I’m sure that the flabby necked guy with the ruffled comb-over gave me a knowing smile. I didn’t care. What would he know any way? We were like different species, that was how little we had in common.

I was hoping she wouldn’t get down at the place where most of everyone else did, and she didn’t.

Did I mention the nose ring? Or the hint of a bindi on her forehead? Or the flowing red robe that clothed her but refused to obey her, billowing around fancifully on a breeze that touched nothing else? She was a goddess, a vision from heaven.

I put the closest thing I had to a love song on my playlist.

She looked up, only for a moment. Her nose had the slightest imperfection – a hint of an upturn that did nothing to take away from her scowl. I checked my heart for complaints. There were none.

A seat cleared nearby. I ignored it. Someone tapped me on the shoulder. I let him pass. Or maybe none of this happened, it’s so indistinct.

She pulled her bag in closer, as if struck by a chill wind.

I was the only one still standing around, looking forlorn. Surely, she would see me now? Perhaps she did, for the tiniest heartbeat. Then she looked away again. It felt like several lifetimes to me, of course.

A hint of a smile played at the corner of her lips.

She was getting up now. It was too early! Clutching her bag tightly to her chest, she hastened towards the front door. I tried to catch the name on the bag, but short sightedness – not just in the literal sense – scuppered my plans.

I was glad. I made my way over to a seat on the back row. I pointed the overhead vents spilling cold air into the bus towards myself as I mused over what had passed. Through the corner of one eye, I noticed that the girl in the next seat was staring at me with undisguised interest.

A hint of a smile played at the corner of my lips.

PS: I'm only experimenting with a different, more 'conventional' writing style here. But that doesn't mean everything that's described here is imaginary. :)