He is twenty something and somewhere in there, he is quite good looking. His blue eyes are an attractive contrast to a hair all ruffled up, a little greasy, brushed – however these guys brush their hair now a days, from a very low line to the other side. Tiredness reflects on his face, matte on his skin and darkness under his eyes.
You may ask what I am looking for, and I can say I am not looking for anything, I am just looking – I am always looking, contemplating, observing and what makes me look is not his looks, his eyes or his hair; not even the dark circles under his eyes or the paleness on his face.
What makes me look, really look, is his serenity. He is a cashier at the supermarket and he seems to mess up most of the things passing on the belt, and even thought the two clients in front of me have scold him, he seems impassible, serene. I think he is smiling inside even I don’t see it, and then I know he is smiling and bubbling inside when he lifts his head to welcome me as his next client and I see this huge hickey on his neck.
I look at him and show teeth; I can avoid it. He looks down and he shows teeth also, and he doesn’t avoid it. The total comes up on the little screen and I pay unable to stop smiling. When he gives me the receipt I look at his neck and blurt I love it. He smiles even wider and whispers I love it too!
I walk away and my mind runs wild wondering how it happened, where, who, how is she (or he). I wonder how that little blood mark could give so much delight, and satisfaction, and most important, I wonder how easy can be to fulfill somebody with a very small gesture.
Young carefree love, one could say…