"YOU CAN HAVE IT. It's hard to find." I make to leave, only at that moment of turning away seeing peripherally her beauty. Such is crush: occurring only in the absence of its object, only this time instantaneously upon removal. It is as if turning around and blinking and seeing the indelible little imprint her pretty face makes removes the goofy glasses and poor posture and showed me the freckled beauty beyond the superficial.
Lucky me that she, my book in two hands like rod and reel, calls after, "Wait, haven't you read it yet?" Because once I start to walk I admit I don't have the guts, in spite of it all, to turn back on my own. Reels me right in.