I met her when I was walking home from the store.
I had never seen someone like her before.
I tried to smile.
She didn’t smile back.
That was the first time we met.
The second time was at a bar.
I saw her sitting with a group of friends, talking, laughing with them.
I remember how her smile would light up the entire room.
Everyone looked at her at one point.
But none spoke to her.
None dared to.
The third time was outside my apartment.
She was walking home with her hands full of books and folders.
It must have been hard to carry because as she passed me she dropped everything.
I thought about not helping her for a minute then my better judgment got the better of me and I got down on my knees and helped her pick everything up.
”Could you help me?” She asked.
I nodded, unable to speak. Starstruck by her beauty.
That was the third time we met.
Now I’m looking forward to the fourth time.
This time at a restaurant.
Just her and I.
That will be the fourth time we meet.
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Categories: flash fiction