It’s All About Numbers

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


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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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