In this university everything seems to be oddly different, sometimes it scares me how people here have the power to control their times, lives, minds perhaps even their desires.
Spring afternoons ' are ultimately boring and empty, despite the prettiness of the weather and those vibes which that season brings with.
The faculty where i teach is quite wonderful, i loved every single corner in it.
Its library is an exception, certainly its one of the closest places to my heart, " my Library is a Temple " as once Jean Paul Sartre declared.
As i walked through the hall, i heard a voice coming from the library,it was strangely attractive to the point where i lost my consciousness about what was surrounding me that moment , i totally felt called out to get in and enjoy the rest of the enchantment with all of my sensations and awarenesses.
The moment i entered, i noticed there was absolutely no body there, only that one young lady which obviously was the owner of such a melodical voice.
I kept my quietness & i just admired her from afar, she was sitting comfortably holding a book , i could know to whom it belongs by the poem she was reciting...
’ Arthur Rimbaud ’ Poetry 's is too tragically sad to be recited out loud like she was doing, but when i remember the way she uttered the verses... Oh heaven! A Goddess.
Those moments were too Ethereal to be true, i felt my heart moving each time she utters a letter, i felt my entire trembling just by looking at her,while she was unintentionally absorbed by her paper world, i- was madly trying to find a less pathetic way to make her feel my presence.
- Excuse me, i - i have not noticed your presence Monsieur ...she said as she closed her book and kept staring at me confusingly
- NOT AT ALL! She interrupted me by adding " - i wish i didnt make u lose ur focus as you are choosing books...
I played it busy reading the books titles on the bookshelves so she wouldn't figure out the real reason that led me in here.
- maybe helping me to choose some poetry books , i declared daringly
-i would love to ! But now iam in hurry, ive to go ,she said while arranging her stuff.
I couldn't get over the delicacy in her gestures, i felt a strange tenderness was coming from her Aura the moment she passed by me and gazed at me timidly.
Something special about her kept me stuck in the library not wanting to step out of it , until another person came in .
- Ouuuuuuuf, where is she, when i needed her ,she disappears ... the woman murmured.
MARIE, MARIE, MAAAAARIE ,she cried
i felt irritated by her screaming so i had to tell her that no body is here, the library is literally empty.
-AA MERCI MONSIEUR, Professor ?
- Oui Madame, je le suis.
- T'as l'air d'un étudiant! Tellement jeune , she added sarcastically
I felt flattered not going to lie.
We laughed.
Alors, c'est Sylvie, prof de la littérature moderne .
André Rousseau, j'enseigne la philosophie ...
Oh c'est joli, je vous souhaite une excellente journée Monsieur André.
À vous même .
Deeply i didnt want to interact with her that much,so i would keep my mind focused only on that creature that had stole it.
YOU ARE READING
They Always Come Back, SHE DOES NOT
Romance''un homme, un vagabond ou bien un fou je ne sais rien ! quand je vois ses yeux, je suis un saint .'' this time i have chosen my pain, i did not let it to chose me TWICE, i think i have won, a heart of a mystical creature, but does it really matter...
