FICTION - [1:32 to 2:17pm]
Stepping outside for the first time in four hours, she noticed instantly that it felt about 21 degrees warmer than it did that morning. And? The sun was out. Bright, beautiful, and glorious. She could just feel the Vitamin D seeping into her skin and improving her mood. "The absolute best thing you can do for your immune system is just... be happy," her quirky old professor had just told her in class. She already felt an increase in happiness sheerly from being out of that classroom, but she decided to take it a step further by making a conscious choice not to listen to any songs on her iPod shuffle list that she had deemed "emo" or depressing in any way. This was happy time, damn it! Healing the immune system! She got in her car, which was more like a fire pit now, and drove to the sandwich place down the road. She sang on the way, made cute small talk with the cashier, and returned to her campus, scoring a much closer parking spot than she had before. She smiled to herself as she saw the shadows of geese flying south for the winter gliding along the freshly cut grass (she didn't see the grass being cut, but she knew the smell, which happens to be one of her favorites), though her internal compass was telling her they were actually flying north-east instead.
Since it was so lovely out, she decided to spend her break between classes outside. She walked past a little area of green just outside the Science wing every single day, more than once on most of them. There were always students out there - curled up with books, napping in the sun, laughing with friends - but she'd never been out there herself. She decided that today would be a fitting day to break it in. She chose a spot in the shade: a cool metal bench under a full oak tree.
She opened her chips (“crisps”, if you’re British) and played a dvd on her laptop. She had a sandwich (with her favorite cheese - muenster), a film she hadn't seen, and space to herself - three things that never failed to make her happy (and allegedly improve her immune system).
She looked up and saw a man about fifteen yards away, in a tucked away, brick corner of this little green student garden. He had on a white shirt that was quite bright and reflective in the sun, dark pants and dark shades. She couldn't quite tell with absolute certainty who it was, but from here he fit the bill and if she paid attention to his hair when he turned around, she’d know it was, in fact, him. He was looking her direction as well, perhaps even having the same battle with his vision - wondering if it was, in fact, one of his students. But then again - to be fair, non-presumptuous, and a bit pessimistic - he could have been looking at someone behind her, or perhaps even no one at all. She wondered if she should maybe wave.
He was smoking a cigarette. She never would have pegged him as a smoker, but seeing it now it made complete sense. It doesn’t bother her that he smokes. She noticed he was alone and although she’s commonly thought of as insensitive or callous, she’s really bothered seeing people eat or even smoke alone. She had to remind herself that he was extremely smart and probably preferred to be alone anyway, like her. He wasn’t married. And if he was, he never wore a wedding ring. She gets the feeling that his intelligence puts him at a social disadvantage, and that he may be misunderstood because of it. Misunderstood people are her huge weakness, she admits. Not many people know that about her. He was pacing around that little corner made of wheat-colored brick, and every now and then he’d half-turn around himself or put his foot up on the bench the way he always stepped on his chair in lecture. Maybe that’s what was so mesmerizing for her - being able to just watch him naturally like this, the way he is, and not be distracted by him opening his mouth and spouting brilliance and challenge in her direction.
If this were a scene in a film and the song wasn't so recognizable, she'd choose instrumentals of Hotel California to play over this moment, because that's what he looks like and that's what it feels like to look at him and be enchanted by his intellect. The mise en scene was classic too - there was a rather large ‘no smoking’ sign in the center of the clearing, and here he was smoking on the very, very edge of it, barely outside the boundary, maybe even still inside of it. She didn’t know where it ended and began, actually - maybe he was breaking the rules and just using the brick to hide between. These were the things she loved in people. These tiny little, smart ass, rule bending (or breaking) moments of humor. She hated minuscule and unnecessary rules.
She put the role of director aside in order to now play actress in her own little mind-film, as she put her laptop away and got off the bench. She crossed over her oak’s shade and stepped into the sunlight just as he turned around.
“So. Got a question for you,” she said as she continued towards him.
He nodded at her to continue, as if he was half-expecting it - why wouldn't she have a question? She always has a question. She formed a logical argument about smoking and asked if it was sound - a twisted and clever way of asking to join him. She turned to stand next to him and put her back against the heated brick wall. He reached into his pocket with a subtle smirk on his face and handed her a cigarette.
“Guess so,” she said, taking it from him. He held out his lighter but - he dare not light it for her. He put it in her hand.
She shook this fantasy out of her eyelashes and watched him walk across the grass and into the building. She picked her soda up off of the bench next to her and continued to eat alone.
Since it was so lovely out, she decided to spend her break between classes outside. She walked past a little area of green just outside the Science wing every single day, more than once on most of them. There were always students out there - curled up with books, napping in the sun, laughing with friends - but she'd never been out there herself. She decided that today would be a fitting day to break it in. She chose a spot in the shade: a cool metal bench under a full oak tree.
She opened her chips (“crisps”, if you’re British) and played a dvd on her laptop. She had a sandwich (with her favorite cheese - muenster), a film she hadn't seen, and space to herself - three things that never failed to make her happy (and allegedly improve her immune system).
She looked up and saw a man about fifteen yards away, in a tucked away, brick corner of this little green student garden. He had on a white shirt that was quite bright and reflective in the sun, dark pants and dark shades. She couldn't quite tell with absolute certainty who it was, but from here he fit the bill and if she paid attention to his hair when he turned around, she’d know it was, in fact, him. He was looking her direction as well, perhaps even having the same battle with his vision - wondering if it was, in fact, one of his students. But then again - to be fair, non-presumptuous, and a bit pessimistic - he could have been looking at someone behind her, or perhaps even no one at all. She wondered if she should maybe wave.
He was smoking a cigarette. She never would have pegged him as a smoker, but seeing it now it made complete sense. It doesn’t bother her that he smokes. She noticed he was alone and although she’s commonly thought of as insensitive or callous, she’s really bothered seeing people eat or even smoke alone. She had to remind herself that he was extremely smart and probably preferred to be alone anyway, like her. He wasn’t married. And if he was, he never wore a wedding ring. She gets the feeling that his intelligence puts him at a social disadvantage, and that he may be misunderstood because of it. Misunderstood people are her huge weakness, she admits. Not many people know that about her. He was pacing around that little corner made of wheat-colored brick, and every now and then he’d half-turn around himself or put his foot up on the bench the way he always stepped on his chair in lecture. Maybe that’s what was so mesmerizing for her - being able to just watch him naturally like this, the way he is, and not be distracted by him opening his mouth and spouting brilliance and challenge in her direction.
If this were a scene in a film and the song wasn't so recognizable, she'd choose instrumentals of Hotel California to play over this moment, because that's what he looks like and that's what it feels like to look at him and be enchanted by his intellect. The mise en scene was classic too - there was a rather large ‘no smoking’ sign in the center of the clearing, and here he was smoking on the very, very edge of it, barely outside the boundary, maybe even still inside of it. She didn’t know where it ended and began, actually - maybe he was breaking the rules and just using the brick to hide between. These were the things she loved in people. These tiny little, smart ass, rule bending (or breaking) moments of humor. She hated minuscule and unnecessary rules.
She put the role of director aside in order to now play actress in her own little mind-film, as she put her laptop away and got off the bench. She crossed over her oak’s shade and stepped into the sunlight just as he turned around.
“So. Got a question for you,” she said as she continued towards him.
He nodded at her to continue, as if he was half-expecting it - why wouldn't she have a question? She always has a question. She formed a logical argument about smoking and asked if it was sound - a twisted and clever way of asking to join him. She turned to stand next to him and put her back against the heated brick wall. He reached into his pocket with a subtle smirk on his face and handed her a cigarette.
“Guess so,” she said, taking it from him. He held out his lighter but - he dare not light it for her. He put it in her hand.
She shook this fantasy out of her eyelashes and watched him walk across the grass and into the building. She picked her soda up off of the bench next to her and continued to eat alone.