extract from a longer piece- work in progress

My first thought was that she was a fantastic specimen of natural beauty; not the sort of female the boys would whistle at from across the sidewalk, of course. More subtle and understated, in a way that I couldn't quite put my finger on. It was intriguing; females at this type of convention typically had problems with their weight, skin, or both. Perhaps she had a personality disorder.

Especially interesting to me was the way in which she was dressed. All in blue; whilst blue is one of the most popular colours, it is one of the least appetising to others. Females at an event such as this generally chose to wear colours that attracted attention.

I sat down, in my allocated seat. I nodded to the gentleman on my left (just to acknowledge his presence) but I kept my eye on the female, to further analyse her behaviour and appearance. She looked left and then right, only moving her head a tiny amount; it was her eyes that were most mobile. They scanned the room from left to right and her head moved almost infinitesimally with them. As they scanned over me, I averted my gaze for a few seconds. When I thought it safe, I looked up again; she had gone.

My initial instinct was to look frantically around the room for her but I stopped myself, albeit with some difficulty. I attempted to appear casual; of course I knew that, typically, people in this situation looked nothing of the sort. I began to feel genuinely embarrassed, and knew that I had to leave. This was a new and odd feeling for me; I didn’t understand why I had become so wound up, but I couldn’t help it.

I stood up, shuffled past the gentleman sat on my left, and exited the place by the nearest door. I found myself out the back of the building, in an alleyway I assumed was used to dispose of waste. I looked to my left, in order to find out which direction the street was in; and she was there. Just stood there looking at me, about a hundred yards distance away. I wanted to say something, but I wasn’t sure what I could say to her, given the fact that I didn’t know her name or indeed anything about her.

She turned, and began walking away from me, towards what I guessed was the street. I followed and it felt oddly like I was giving chase, trying to catch her. She turned the corner at the end of the alley and I sped up, almost power-walking now. I reached the end and turned the way she had; and I’d lost her again.

The End

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