She

I heard a silvery laugh. That's the only way I could have described it. Silvery. That faint laughter filled the recesses of my mind with glistening dew drops and the colour of the moon and the refreshing smell of rain, all in one short moment.

I looked up from my textbook. There was a girl sitting cross-legged on the floor, straight across the room from where i was seated. She wasn't laughing then, but the slight traces of a smile had yet to leave the corners of her lips. And I knew it was her. Or, at least, I hoped it was.

She was engrossed in a book, and I, in her.

Her warm brown hair, her sweet silver laugh. I followed her fingers as they traced the spine of her book. I watched her slender wrists as they flipped the page. And I searched my memory for a word to describe her eyes. I studied her toes as they curled. I imagined the emotions she felt as she read and I saw them reflected in her face.

I settled on the perfect way to say hello as I walked over, but alas. She left.

She closed her book, picked up her bag and left me staring into the space she previously occupied. And she left her silvery laughter ringing in my mind.