It was a casual Saturday evening
He sat with his friends at a bar
sharing stories and loneliness over drinks and dinner
just another night in the city of lights
A sharp motion caught his eye
As if the evening suddenly came alive
Paced feet walked past their table
and he noticed the slender damsel
His friends took little interest
in the rush that seemed to grip her form
As gentle curls fell just below the neck
followed by three from the hotel’s desk
She took her table with poise and turned
her face a mix of anticipation and glee
She shot her orders with smile
and was content to be left in peace
She looked outside the window
eagerly waiting on
what could it be,
he thought to himself
oblivious to the chatter in his own environs
As is the nature of anticipation
her glee gave way to doubt
It did not take long for her smile to turn
to looks of longing to insecurity to ire
She twirled her phone to see
if she was incorrect in being as excited as she be
A few words were exchanged, out of earshot to him
for there were other, he himself wanted to speak
But he waited, and saw
as she waited checking window and phone
A shimmering drink was brought to her
as royal as she had been
And as he thought he wondered
if her glee had given path to ire
or if it was all in his own head
A story devised without context
to feed the austerities of the mind
Was the story of her transformation his own
For he was the one who felt it
If he had seen a girl in anticipation
or if he had seen a girl, in anticipation
Vishal Gupta
8 October 2017
