One Apple A Day #60
The buzz of the door interrupts my lesson. That and the hot stream of summer air making its way through the cold crib of Kumar. One day I’ll sue this place for my neck pain. The summer air brings in also a stunning girl. And this is the definitive end of my lesson. Not only there are more than 2 people awake in this corner of the city, but the third one is a gorgeous chick. I don’t want to look like a nerd who hasn’t seen a girl outside a screen for months. So, I keep following her from the big mirror behind Kumar. He may think I have a thing for him right now. But who cares. She slides through the isles, checking stuff on the shelves and putting them down. She does everything with such a grace that it looks like a choreography. The black hair gathered on a bun and held by a pencil, are the only sign of summer on her. She’s wearing a purple leather jacket, jeans and high boots. An outfit that would be perfect for a biker, in spring. Surely not the best choice for this 45 degrees summer’s night. And I didn’t hear any motorbike approaching before she arrived. No, she must have arrived with a silent car or walking. But you can’t walk more than 10 meters dressed like this without sweating like a runner at the end of a marathon. There’s no sign of sweat in her. Not even a small hint on her neck.
It’s not the only weird thing in the woman. I didn’t notice before but her eyes are not the same colour. One is a kind of yellowish green while the other is a very pale blue. The blue one looks fake, it doesn’t move. A briefly glimpse to Kuman and we silently agree that there’s something wrong. She’s not searching anything in the shop. She takes the products and put them back on the shelf without looking at them. She keeps her gaze fixed on the door. Like if she’s waiting for someone to enter.
And someone enters.