9-22-11 Prompt: It has always intrigued me… Did she know what I was up to that day?
It happened one spring day, when the grass was as green as an Irish landscape after soaking in a week’s steady rain and warmth of the sun.
But today was overcast,.. because it didn’t work, he had thought, as if the heavens were joined with him in his disappointment.
However, backing up, on that special day when the grass was green and hope filled the air, and the lungs of this man held breath for possible success…The day where it was his adventure out to see, yet failed. He wondered, had she been there? Did she know?
I thought she was far away, he thought. Only later did he learn of her probable close vicinity.
He racked his brain wondering how she knew. .. Or did she?
I tried steadily for weeks, to keep it a secret. No one should know. This was my mission, my project. If it worked, I would let the public know. If I failed, no one would be the wiser. And wiser all would be, if I had succeeded.
He looked a her from across the café bar. She sat at the opposite end. She looked too poised, and had glanced many times his way. He noticed.
Did she know what I was up to that day?
I don’t want her to know…unless the experiment becomes a success. Then, she would believe me to be brave, …and smart.
A stranger she is. I didn’t want to be strangers. Not any longer. I had wanted to be able to introduce myself by now. And more. But since it failed…I failed, I have to wait.
What if I don’t have a chance now? No, if she does know, surely she can’t hold it against me for not being successful. She should think me gallant for my effort.
Hm. She may think me an idiot and fool.
The man took a sip of his water. Second serving, in a clean glass, no ice. He set it on the placemat, upper right hand corner so its round bottom met the edges precisely.
He glanced up from his bowed head, to the end of the bar. She was smiling. At him. She waved.
He began to meekly raise his hand, yet was interrupted. Someone passed him so close his shoulder was almost brushed. A chill enveloped around him from the closing café door.
The someone was another man and her eyes followed him…the stranger walking toward her. Her smile reached out to the stranger’s face.
The man at the opposite end of the bar wanted her eyes to see him, wanted to feel her smile, for him.
Oh, she must know what I was up to that day, he thought. “What can I do next for her?” He mumbled to himself, lifting steaming soup toward his lips. He kept his head bowed and imagined an empty field, with a track and his new machine to help the world. “This time it will work,” he said, as he delicately patted his lips with his napkin and returned it, centered in his lap.