As I sat, admiring her almost oblivious thoughtfulness, I was slowly exiled from the world of sensibility; I wasn’t admiring her but it was the air around her that captivated me until I noticed a water bottle moving slowly and rhythmically across the desk from some mysterious external force-her shoes tapping in time against the desk shook it enough to move the half full water bottle close to the edge until it stopped for its momentum would carry it no farther; I realized I had become so enthralled in the bottle’s trek across the desk that knew I could not bear to see it end so anticlimactically, for the whole journey lacked closure- fall off, spill, or be noticed by the blind girl, I did’t care as long as I didn’t have to abandon my pursuit of the bottle and rejoin the realm of the conscious.
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