by Noise Pollution
She was the kind of pretty that looked like she wasn’t even trying to look good. Like she just woke up beautiful. It made my heart ache.
I watched her wander around the store for a moment before averting my gaze. I didn’t want to be a creep. Though it was honestly hard to look at her for very long, anyway. She was like the sun; a ghostly image of her burned into my retinas after only a few moments of looking directly at her.
I beat myself up for a bit, like I always do. She would never look in my direction, and if she did, her gaze would be directed at some object behind me. I could imagine her seeing right through me, as if I wasn’t there at all. That, I understand. That’s something I’m used to.
There was no reason for me to expect us to interact, and we didn’t. Eventually she left, and once the afterimage faded, it was like she was never there at all.