Sometimes you fall in love with the small things people do, like the way she grabbed that box of mints out of her bag, popped two in her mouth and swiftly closed the container again.
She was reading a novel, something tragic. The light fell on the pages and her eyes scanned over all the words, trying to string them together so they would make sense.
I couldn’t even see her face, but I was captivated by the details. How her slender fingers flicked to the next chapter and how she simultaneously twirled her ponytail with the opposite hand. And her nail polish, a chipped matte black, which she was nervously picking at when she thought no one was looking.
She wore glasses, a pair of dark burgundy frames. They looked like the sort of accessory one would find in a 60’s fashion magazine. They really enhanced her bookworm look and paired perfectly with the oversized knitted grandma sweater she was wearing. She took pride in her plainness, but there’s always more than meets the eye.