Arielle
Her eyes bright and glistening and her smile wide, lips ever ajar, she rambled about Kerouac and her feelings of his fame and I paid no attention as I was hypnotized by her glare. Those shiny black gems deeply penetrating as she sought to see whether I was worth her time. Or was that a projection of my own fear of inadequacy? Small, quirky, and beautiful, a character Natalie Portman might play, barely 5’5, but next to her I was an ant and she a mountain, towering down, impossible to scale. But still I sat and listened and tried not to smile so big and tried to seem smart and composed as I felt my heartbeat gradually build speed. My eyes remained fixed on her while she hummed a sweet tune and poured her coffee and I was stuck, unable to think. Through her smile shone the light of her spirit and I stood smitten, basking in it. I would have stayed forever but she insisted she had work to do and that I should get going. She was right, in the bubble of atmosphere she created there was no time only her and that blinding light. And when it was time to leave, she said goodnight, but I couldn’t find the words to respond through the blur of emotion I had felt. I said only goodbye in hopes that when I say goodnight to her it would be followed by good morning when we awoke together. And her name was Arielle. I never saw her again
