A Circadian Phenomenon - Another everyday love story

Chapter 1

The room wasn't all that big. But it was tidy, and the rent was cheap. Mae's bed was just a small, single bed. But with the blankets piled upon her, the air conditioning set at its coldest, it seemed like the most luxurious room in the world to her. The parted curtains which had earlier let in starlight soon welcomed sunlight. The chirping of birds served as her alarm.

With a sigh, Mae left her bed. It might as well have been the cosiest thing in the world, but it did not really bother Mae much. After all, it was routine. Everything was routine. It wasn't that she had any particular attachment to routines. But she had simply never felt the need to change. Things were in monotone, but they were peaceful. Satisfactory.

It was the height of autumn. Everything was dyed the colour of the dying leaves that clung to trees, glided in the sky, floated on any water and carpeted the grounds. Her routine walk to the bus stop was short as ever.

There, in the midst of the dancing autumn leaves, and winds that sang songs of mourning, stood a man with his face heavenwards. His eyes were closed and he stood right in front of the bus stop. A heavy coat sheathed him and a complicated-looking camera hung by its strap from his neck, resting on his chest. He looked... warm. That was the first word that came to mind when Mae saw that man.

Silently, she took her seat at one edge of the bench and took out her book and stared at the pages. The rest of the day went by in a routine. But there was something different about Mae. She felt just a tad warmer.

-x-

With no expectations whatsoever, the next day Mae went by her routine again. For the first time, the same person had been on the bus stop for two consecutive days. He had the same coat on, and for a moment Mae wondered if he was perhaps living in the bus stop, but she quickly dismissed the idea. He hadn't been there when she had returned late at night. She made note of his trousers - simple dark blue jeans, and swallowing her curiosity, sat where she always did. And took out her book, and stared at the pages.

Perhaps, even she hadn't yet realized that she was curious about the man. Her eyes drifted to him again and again. He was sitting on the same bench as her that day. He had a slight goatee. Not like he grew it, but more like he simply didn't bother to shave for some time. His hair was outgrown as well but neatly tied back in a ponytail. Yet, straight, stubborn strands of hair had escaped and fallen over his face. He looked somewhere around thirty, give or take a couple years. Before she knew it, Mae was blatantly staring. The man looked back at her and smiled.

Mae's mouth opened and then shut. She was saved from having to think of something to say as her bus arrived, and she hurried to board it. As the doors shut behind her, she glanced back for a second and found the man smiling at her. She adjusted her glasses.

Nothing too different happened that day, either. She attended calls, had coffee for a lousy excuse of a lunch, attended some more calls, worked on her assigned documents, bought frozen dinner, and went home. Of course, she didn't really expect to see the man. Not at such a time. But even so, she felt rather restless, and just a teeny tiny bit disappointed.

The next day, she was earlier than usual. Her pace was quicker, her breath was shorter. It was colder, too, but when she noticed the man there, she instantly felt warmer. She calmed herself. She felt as though she was acting absolutely ridiculous. She sighed and pulled her overgrown bob into a ponytail. Again, she sat at the same place, took out the same book and flipped over to the same page, staring at the same words.

Out of nowhere, her nose tingled and out came a sneeze. She sniffled. She heard a rustling to her left and turned to find the man digging out a mint from his coat pocket. He offered it to her. She stared at his hand.