Apr 10, 2005 21:12
The first time I saw you was last week Tuesday.
I was outside smoking with a German and a Turk; we were discussing how to prove something involving the degree of the antipodal map between n-spheres, something that lost all my attention as soon you walked out of the building.
Through the window, you locked eyes with me and I couldn't look away. That's when you walked right up to me and asked
Do you have a cigarette?
I obliged. Your eyelids fluttered underneath your pink eyeshadow, and I felt like I was 10 miles above the surface of the Earth. You apologized profusely for interrupting the conversation, to which one of my friends assured you it was okay.
Do you have a lighter?
Of course. The way your lips danced around before you put the cigarette in your mouth drove me insane. Look me in the eyes again.
Your lighter hates me!
Turn and face away from the wind. Let me light it for you.
I'll see you around.
Getting struck by lightning in the middle of a cloudless day doesn't happen often. Your hair blew in the breeze as you walked away and I couldn't believe I just got that close to someone like you.
I'll be there next week if you are out of cigarettes.