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I looked up and was startled to realize the gaze I’d felt on me was, in fact, real.  Mostly, I just feel a little self conscious without any reason.  Just another face in a sea of people going about their mundane duties in a busy city.  How silly to think anyone is paying even an ounce of attention to what I’m doing.  The ego is a hungry animal.

But there it was.  The gaze that caused me to spill the last bit of my coffee as I recollected myself in front of my computer, which was really only serving as a prop at this point in the late winter afternoon.  Our eyes met and I quickly looked back down at the brown ring now taking over the cover of my copy of Diaries.  I dabbed at it with a napkin, but decided it gave the book a bit more character.  I remained frozen, terrified to meet his big brown eyes again.

When I’d composed myself and collected enough courage to look up again, he was gone.  The only thing left behind was the flush on my cheeks.

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