It was an evening like any other-I had just retreated to the shaded apartment in the cities few quiet refuges and had perched myself on my balcony. I tugged at my shirts collars and lent on the railings observing the car that had driven by.
It stopped by the house opposite mine and a family streamed out. The car was an old model but I guessed the owners must have been wealthy at some point of time. Their faces were directed at their phones as the man who drove the car said something and made his way into the house before the others. Right after the last thump of a car door I thought I saw one of them look at me.
I nearly fell back into my chair. I wasn’t quite sure why I was thrown off. But I knew where to look when I rose again. Right across the street burned two troubled eyes un-obscured by a veil. They looked right at me with a casual intensity I thought impossible. I exhaled and looked away at the trees that swayed with a flourish. I could not bear to look back down but I am certain the stare was not quickly broken.
I could hear the party at the house across the road but did not see her again. I can’t explain my curiosity. I knew that she was just a visitor and that she would not be here long. I dreamt in a troubled sleep but, as all city dwellers do, had little time to worry about the eyes. Soon enough she was the least of my concerns.
I traveled a lot in those day so it wasn’t long that I was in the city. But those eyes seemed to have marked themselves onto my soul. I would forget as I grew older and traveled further, only to be reminded by the breezy branches of those eyes that burned.