Her

I was lost in the smell of her hair spray. Her scented long locks spread the essence. I couldn’t take my eyes of her fair white arms. Fairer than the word itself. Glimpses of her face when she looked aside to her friend. That’s all I could enjoy of the beauty, from behind. She was thinking. Then scribbling. Then writing. Then scribbling again. Her actions very intense. I hesitated to call her, but anxiously took her name. She turned around and looked at me, I blurted out ‘pen’. In another series of intense actions she put her pouch before me and asked me which one. Still comprehending the beauty of the face I said ‘any’. Confused but still pretty, she pulled out two and put them on my desk. Turned back. Again scribbling, again writing and again spreading essence.

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