Letters you'll never read

Treble Clef

For the first time, you came into my shop. I've never seen you in this part of town before, only at the far end, where the station is.

I work here on Saturdays and Sundays. It's a little shop, one that sells candles and crystals and dream catchers and ornaments. It smells of incense and attracts rather interesting customers, and the boss is nice. The pay's a bit weak and sometimes the customers are rude, but you coming in today made it all worthwhile.

You came in with your mum, smiling, of course. You were wearing a black coat that made you look taller and, if possible, even prettier.

You ran your hand along the wind chimes to that they all sang and you tangled the feathers on the blue and black dream catcher round your fingers. You held a rose quartz in your cupped hands and tried on a blue bracelet.

As you went past the counter, you smiled at me and I had to sit down. Butterflies were having a party in my stomach. Buy something, I begged silently. Buy something so that I can talk to you and you can look at me.

You had your back to me and held something up. You turned around, your mouth open, and called for your mum. It was brown treble clef, made of glass, on a black cord.

​"Oh, that's lovely," your mum said. "How much is it?"

You turned over the price tag. "Fifty dollars."

Your mum tutted. "A bit pricey. Put it back."

You hung it back on the peg and went over to the candles, sniffing each one as your mum came up to me with some blue earrings. I took her six dollars fifty and handed her the receipt. "Thank you," she smiled politely and walked to the door.

"Come on," she called to you. "Time to go."

"Coming," you replied, and I watched in dismay and you started to follow her. I summonded up all my courage and gave you a little wave. "See you."

You looked up in surprise and gave me a smile.

"Bye," you said gently, and followed your mum. I watched you go, and you looked back and saw me, and gave me a little wave. Then you left.

-P.