Mini Joys

Enjoy the small things, they said.
So I went to the local Mini Market. To buy some fruits and wine.
There I saw your arms, strong, muscular, tanned.

There was nothing more than a friendly and timid smile. And a Hello.
I smiled back. Hello.

It went on like this. Everytime I came for buying just small things.
Once you passed me in the aisle. From behind. There was not much space between me and the shelves. So your hand very carefully and softly brushed my shoulder and arm and you said Sorry. So I stepped aside. But this soft, careful touch of yours, gently, as if you’re stroking my arm like a feather while still trying to feel the smooth texture of my skin with every fingertip of yours, it gave me the bumps.

This is the way I want to be looked at. This is the way I want to be touched.

When you finally took your courage to talk to me, I was surprised.
You tried to look brave, manly, self-assured. But I could see through your boyish facade.
You were as nervous as me. Trying to impress. I liked that.

But still I got scared and never visited your shop again until the day of my departure. You had touched something inside me that I’d thought lost, or that I had deliberately buried deep inside. And unleashing it kind of freaked me out.

So I’d subconsciously decided to cherish the small things.
That shy smile. That soft touch. That over-compensating behaviour of yours, trying to impress me, though, not really knowing what to say. Soft and clumsy at the same time.
I enjoyed every little second. Even if nothing ever happened. Not more than that.

The only thing I was pretty sure of was, that this little smile and the shy hellos we gave each other at that point, meant the world to both of us. To you, because perhaps the tourists never usually see you, with kindness, you, the shop assistant. And to me, because I am not used to be seen, as I am not pretty. It restored something inside me, though, a wound that needed mending. If I would have been brave enough, I would have hugged you good bye. Just for this little gift of being seen, as a woman, and touched, like a treasure.



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