Starry eyed

Little games

The receptionist smiled in recognition. I smiled back.

I walked over the seat directly facing her. She always gets uncomfortable, when I stare up at her from there. 

I like to watch her squirm. 

Files slipped. Papers flew. Pens took to air. I watched her slow descent into clumsiness. 

A few steps from the waiting area, the door to the examination room opened. A woman with long silver hair tied in a ponytail bid her last pleasantries. She walked past me. 

Gorgeous!

*Sound of glass breaking* 

Casualty: Pretty yellow flowers strewn across the floor

Next.

It was a soft, curt voice.

I smiled. It's always nice to see an old friend. 

The receptionist was still lost in the chaos. And judging by the cloth in her hand, I think she might have even spilt her coffee.

The doctor looked up from his file. 

"Ahhh, Taara! It has been a while. I was wondering if you changed sides."

"Haha! You know I can't!" I said.

"Would you ever want to?" He was serious this time. His eyes grew dark. Little lines started forming on his forehead. 

"Not in the least! I enjoy our little games way too much." I smiled happily. "Still the same receptionist? What does she have again...?"

"Caligynephobia... It's a thing of beauty... Sometimes I set the mood, put some classical music, pour some coffee and watch her from the surveillance camera while a client waits" A sly curve had started to appear on his lips.

"She's going to quit soon!" I eyed her as she calmed herself down.

"It's what you said the last time." He sat down in his chair across the desk. Sunlight bathed his shoulders through Venetian blinds; face obscured by shadows. "What's it gonna be this time?"

I smiled at him. He smiled back.

***

I could feel him working on my face. No pain. Just the scalpel carefully segregating the layers of my skin.

I stared at the keyboard opposing my face. Dictated by where I'd look, words could appear on the screen. This was a great arrangement. The doctor could work for long hours on my face and we could still hold a conversation. 

Today though, he was quiet. Eyes converged, mind somewhere else. I didn't mind. My mind was clouded too.

20 years earlier... The man I loved walked into my life. 

***

Eyes ran over words that didn't make sense. This was an oddity. That book was good... I confirmed that later when I read the same paragraphs again. 

Something about today was so perfect... 12 in the noon. A lazy Sunday morning. No submissions coming Monday. An army of grey clouds waged war against the white sky. Thundering warhorns rang. Swords of light pierced the sky. The rainbow stood witness like a mute observer.

 Victory over daylight celebrated with songs sung by a million raindrops.

I watched the war from my favourite place by the window.

The coffee shop did business that day. 

I put down the book because I'll be missing out on things that are not the written word. No prose can contain what it is to watch a young lady smile and steal glances at the man sitting in front of her. Or the joy of curious children running around as their tired mother follows them from the corner of her eyes...