Through the large store window, her eyes followed my pace. Dipping behind articles of store fineries only to reappear noticing her eyes still on me. It was the way the edges of her mouth curved, slightly, to let me know that she knew. I darted from the swinging door and quickened my steps up the crowded sidewalk. Her gaze seem to burn a precise hole through my back. I could feel her eyes upon me, taunting, like a meddlesome child.
Slipping in a puddle of chocolate mud, I twisted and looked up to peer into the sassing eyes of she, my tormentor. Slowly she raised a hand to her face, touching her long slender finger to her fine pointed chin and shook her head ever so softly, left to right. The edges of her lips tipped downward then shifted back to its original, taunting position. A trio of rain drops landed on my nose and lips and as I shook them away, I noticed that she had backed slightly away from my fallen position. Again, her eyes told me, she knew.1
Cautiously I pulled myself to my feet and raced into the oncoming crowd, hoping to disappear from her mocking glare. But when I arrived at the doorstep of my resident I found a message on my door, wrapped in a damp, brown evelope. Lifting the note from its barriers I read and dropped it into the collecting drops of rain at my feet. The note had read simply "I know". 2
Shaking now, I raised my eyes to find her yet still standing near. She squatted to my feet and lifted the note from the ski's tears and handed it to me. For a moment both our hands held the damp paper as our eyes read each other's stares. I knew that she knew.3
Adding your comment: