Prompt: is the photo below [The photo pictured a valentine card being held out by someone's hands].
Result: I have no idea what you'd call this. Microfiction? A vignette?
I’m the Deer and You’re the Headlights
To My Unsuspecting Valentine,
I will always remember the first time I noticed you. I saw you from the back and I was filled with intrigue. I still have no idea what caught my fancy so firmly. I spent the whole night craning for a look at your face, but you eluded me at every turn. I still thought about your hair for days after. I felt so silly – how could I be so enraptured by someone’s back?
The next time I saw your hair across the room, my heart skipped. Anticipation seized hold of my body. I tried to stare without staring, waiting for your head to turn. I caught a glimpse of your profile. Just a glimpse and nothing more. I had gotten a taste and my curiosity was redoubled. But once again you were hidden from me in the crowd. And then…
I had my chance and wasted it; I had a shot and fumbled it. My nerves failed me in the critical moment. You were there – you were right there – standing across from me in full view. In my peripheral vision, I could see you were looking my way. I could feel your eyes on me and if I’d met them with mine, you might have smiled; you might have said, ‘Hello’. But alas, I was struck with cowardice. I let my eyes drift away without focus, pretending to be lost in thought, and you turned away. I stared at your back again, until it was time to go. I kicked myself for days. What if that had been my only chance? If just to see your face in full? Again you filled my waking dreams. Your mystery consumed every last spare thought I had.
Finally, it happened. Third time’s a charm, they say. When I walked in, you were there, an arm’s length away and facing front. My eyes hit yours before anything else, too quick for my nerves to fail me again. My face broke unbidden into the biggest smile. I squeaked a greeting. You looked confused. It made me feel a little foolish, but the elation far outweighed the embarrassment, so I didn’t let it get to me. Seeing your face at last was so fulfilling. I must admit, you weren’t quite what I’d expected and a little older than I’d guessed. But my obsession was not lessened. Quite the opposite, if anything. I spent yet another evening trying to catch your eye, and always missing.
When it got late and the company dwindled, I grew bolder. I strode over and joined that last pocket of people, of which you were part. And at last we met for real. I barely managed to get a word in over the others, but it was something. Our time felt all too short, but oh, was it ever sweet! Now at least I know your face and your voice, and your name; and you know mine. And next time, I feel certain our eyes will find each other, and we will talk in earnest, and we will be friends.
I hope we will be friends.