She looked up; her eyes deeply searching, brows furrowed - as if all of mankind’s perplexing questions had gathered themselves at the tip where the brows meet.
He looked up; his eyes transfixed, on her. That day, they both discovered magic - in the space between him and her, love happened.
He thought to himself, “May what I have to give transform into something beautiful in your mind”. He wanted to ask ”Will you dance the dance of love with me? Take my hand, let’s begin.”
It was the kind of ethereal connection, made possible only by the exact moment when two souls meet, having been stripped of all worldly pretensions. The kind of beauty that if one is lucky enough, sees of two kids sitting side by side on the light sandy beach continuing into the ocean, one’s arm around the other’s shoulder, watching the sun set while sharing a maple syrup stick. Where the sand ends and their feet began, the world in all its beauty was one.
The elevator settled at last on the floor – she, along with rest of them, streamed out. He smiled weakly to himself - watching her disappear from his horizon, as the elevator door closed quietly between them.
"What did I know, what did I know of love's austere and lonely offices?" (Hayden, Those Winter Sundays)
