Dice

He checked well before starting. New cool shorts, yes; shoelace, yes; specs hanging out, yes. Everything was alright. He gradually increased his pace and was soon almost floating a bit of an inch above the ground. He took sharp turns to avoid people on the road, but with ease. He always loved this appearance of an adroit runner. Showing off was something he hated with brain and loved with heart. But today he slowed down soon after he started. Got puzzled when he couldn’t understand exactly how he was controlled. Perhaps he didn’t want to think about it too. He felt numb. The reason was right in front. Yes, that was her. Surely. The same trait. The same appearance. He kept observing her from the back until he could sense her presence at a higher level than that of his eyes. It had been long since he talked to her, in a literal sense. Eyes always did their job for him, when the mouth shut up. But the last time the eyes spoke was also far back in time, at least in its relative sense. He had shifted elsewhere keeping all the stuff behind. Why was she in his sight now, in this little area? She suddenly disappeared into an alley. He kept following her. He was intrigued by what she was doing there. Yes, there she was. Yes, yes, that was her. She was probably traipsing around. He suddenly realised something. ‘Wait a minute, has she seen me? For all possible ways, she could have. She won’t show anything even if she has seen.’ And he was right behind her. On his phone, he checked all social sites where they used to talk. Checked his emails, messages. And there was nothing, almost as expected. He wanted to continue looking at her but didn’t want to call. He wanted to be the same numb, comfortably. But there was another choice, a third one; he was reminded. There was a way back. Without letting her know his presence, assuming she had not seen him, he could fold the history and throw it away. There wouldn’t be any conversation, a meaningful one, at least. His eyes were red by now, filled with some unknown emotions. He didn’t know if he would see her again, like this. He wouldn’t even get the satisfaction of avoiding her, with its full meaning and eyes with disgust and disguise towards her. But perhaps he would be able to close this half-open newborn chapter. He slowly turned another way. He kept walking on roads, perhaps away from her and in the opposite directions, but for a longer time than he usually took. If anyone changed their mind, they could have met. Or he might have given her a subtle chance to see him. Or maybe just by a coincidence, they would have collided. Yes, he would have labeled it a coincidence then. He hoped that he really got away with all the hope. He kept enjoying the numbness. And, yes, armed with probability, this was the fourth way. At least that’s what he convinced himself.