It’s All About Numbers

He turned the page
It was the age
She wanted more
It was the score


She was hardly sitting on the bench tapping impatiently her feet on the grass. It was a mechanical, unconscious movement and the sound soaked in the soft ground was naturally unheard, but I could not stop thinking of it as something really annoying. She opened her purse, lighted a cigarette and smoked it at once with great satisfaction. Her eyes wandered on the busy street examining the people passing by with a penetrating look. I guessed that she had a date or something and that her impatience grew due to the inconsistency of the other. She was a woman of peculiar beauty, with long black hair, dark eyes, and a rather incomputable age.

I was standing nearby waiting for the bus to take me home. The labours of the day had exhausted me and I was desperately in need of a warm bath and some rest. Despite my tiredness though, I found this strange woman very appealing and I might have tried to engage with her to a kind of conversation, had not my bus been approaching from afar. I made a couple of steps forward, feeling my willingness too weak, my thoughts captured behind. When the bus arrived and opened its doors I heard the sweetest voice asking me for the time. I turned around and while stepping on the bus I said decisively “It’s time to go”. She smiled silently and followed me to the back seats.

“I thought you have been waiting for somebody” I said to initiate a conversation and learn her story.

“I was” she replied firmly and stopped.

“Who then?” I asked both indiscreetly and impatiently.

“You” responded she.

I was astounded. “Me? Do we know each other?” I finally asked.

“Not yet” said she and smiled mysteriously again.

“What’s your name?” I asked all the more interested.

“Destiny” she said.

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