It was not the way she walked for she walked too slowly for someone with such elongated legs. It was not her midnight raven hair tied into a loose knot because it was imperfectly brushed and frizzy. It couldn’t have been her laugh because it was far too loud and she snorted like a content swine.

It had to be her eyes that made him stare. Her kaleidoscope eyes drew him into her mystique; made him long for her to look at him one more time. Her un-naturally red lips moved in a steady rhythm and he strained to hear her enchanting murmurs with no prevail.

He sat at his table gazing at the cashiers counter, itching to be near her; to have her fill his entire vision. She noticed him not and that made her more desirable. She danced about her surroundings as if doing she were doing the bunny hop with the espresso machine. Her lips still moved, happy and etched with a smile. He wanted that smile; to feel it and know that it was real and not a figment of his over-active imagination.

He gathered his lion courage and stood from his chair. He closed the steps between the counter and himself, hesitant, because he did not want to disrupt her beautiful peace. He stopped short of the counter wishing that she would notice him when he heard it; her murmurs.

She was singing.