Unspoken

It was a hot summer day, the hottest of that year perhaps. The kind when sun appears no less than a ruthless dictator and the sky is abandoned of even a single formation of cloud. Only the sun reins. The people below melt.
Not caring an iota about the burning yellow ball above, he peered in at the window. A wandering soul he was, benign at first sight but quite the opposite otherwise. A bead of sweat appeared on his forehead and like a lone traveler slipped straight into his eye. It startled him a little and he blinked for the first time since he had started to keenly watch the movements on the other side of the window. He had been following this ritual secretly for days. No one inside was aware of his existence outside.

In his mind he thought of several ways he could get hold of the beautiful display that sparkled his eyes. He mapped his break-in and successful escape when the owners would not be inside. While he devised the best of his plans, his sweaty palms and fingers stretched farther apart on the huge glass window. The grip of his hands grew stronger and stickier as a wicked curve of smile invaded his parted lips.

Inside a young man, unaffected by the blazing sun suddenly took notice of the tanned face clinging onto the clean glass. The vibes of the man inside reached the boy outside. In an instant he felt a pair of intense eyes piercing into his soul from inside the shop. The boy stared into the intense gaze of the man. Two pairs of resolute eyes focused onto each other unaware of the crowds of people around them; the hustle and bustle muffled into the background.

The boy awaited a reaction from inside while the man tried to decipher the look on the other’s dust ridden face. He studied his features with deep thoughts. The furrow of his brows started to relax and his stern face gave away the softer side to his personality. In what seemed like an eternity, their eye contact broke at last, like a witch’s spell coming to an end.

The young man moved from behind the counter and walked towards the door. It was hard to believe that his feet were not fixed into the floor and he could actually move. The boy realized his time was over and he needed to think of another plan. He might try his luck another day he thought. Just then a group of giggling girls came in his direction. Busy in their chuckling and mischievousness, they didn’t notice the boy glued to the window. As he turned onto his heels to escape his fate, the inevitable collision took place. With the tiny bell coming to life as the shop’s door opened, the young man came outside. The girls soon disappeared leaving the boy on the ground. He dared not look up, guilty conscience of having stolen things in the past clouded his face.

Still lying on the ground like a defeated and injured football player he saw a hand coming towards him. He forced shut his eyes to feel the strong hold of it on his neck. Instead he heard a whistle, a casual hello. He looked up to find an amiable face tainted with an amused expression looking down at him. In his other hand he had the colourful selection of brownies, biscuits and pastries in a plate awaiting his acceptance.

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