Rueful Disquiet (1)

by Allen Ovanstone

His gaze was so intent on her that for a moment she felt him slip in under her skin. Like an owl, he kept his stare and even when those bulky eyes blinked, it only made them strengthen their magnetism. But as you may have it, Annabelle had no fear in her heart nor did she shiver by the depth she found her soul lost.

Taking a foot at a time, distance closed in and heartbeats began to beat alike. The chilly evening wind was soon forgotten as she only felt a warmth that whooped her inside and out.  Her lips became moist as she felt hypnotised. There was no further explanation to this.

T.Y. knew he had got her attention quite alright.

A fine looking man comfortably styled in clothing and apparently living the good life. All thoughts were on him playing a flirty game on her – not in the least unusual around the premise.

This fair new-to-the-neighbourhood gentleman though, rumours were the only tangible news in circulation about him. “No friends, few words he speaks,  and very disciplined in terms of the opposite sex. He rarely smiles even.”

Anabelle had heard the rumours too. So you can imagine her surprise when she found herself locked in his gaze. And in all honesty, she felt flattered. Then came the blushes and the look in her eyes- excitements flickered continually in them. She grinned even.

Five, four, three feet apart and her mind picked up the race ahead of her wit but as they closed in she was left in shock. He tilted sharply to the right and with a stoic expression on his face, he walked gracefully away.

All thoughts of “Happily ever after” and the ultimate prize for being her mother’s daughter took reason off her mind and was buried six feet under. Her shock though, became acute as she kept staring at him till he took a right turn and disappeared from her view.

After what seemed like eternity drowned in chronic embarrassment, she tried to picture the whole scenario again to see where she might have gone wrong.

The short episode took in some meaning when she caught a flying thought in her mind and left it in her mouth to savour the taste for a while and of course the next plan of action to follow teased her mind a little. Resigning to fate, she walked the remaining distance home in a jolly mood.

For the first time in thirteen years, T.Y. felt anxious on the job.

His eyes were fixed on Annabelle’s pictures hanging loosely on the side wall of his rented apartment. He ran through the whole detail again and was sure he didn’t miss a thing. He had marked her out. He could have easily singled her out from the crowd, but what held him back? A premonition?

As he shifted his focus to the tranquilizer injection he held, he felt that strange feeling of guilt again. Six hours from his failed operation, he had to admit to himself there was something more to all these.

“Why does it feel right but wrong at the same time?” He asked no one in particular.

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