An Encounter Not Worth Mentioning

Mahra was not one of those people who fell in love easily...

In fact, to be precise, she scoffed at the whole idea.

She always said:

"Love is a human exaggeration to justify irrational decisions."

Then she would go back to her room, watch a romantic film... and cry.

On an ordinary morning, Mahra missed the bus,

and this simple event — not worth mentioning — was the beginning of everything.

She stood at the bus stop, muttering under her breath:

"Lovely... a wonderful start to the day. I'm late, and I don't even want to go in the first place."

"I don't like waiting either, but here we are."

She turned quickly.

A young man stood a step away, holding a cup of coffee, looking as if he had woken up just two minutes before the rest of the world.

She said coldly:

"Are you talking to me?"

He answered:

"No, I'm talking to myself... but you overheard."

She studied him for a second, then said:

"Then try to make what you say a little more useful."

He smiled:

"Well... today's advice: don't miss the bus."

She stared at him for a long moment, then said:

"Thanks. I never would have figured that out on my own."

His name was Salem.

And in some inexplicable way, he started running into her every morning...

In the same place... at the same time.

They hadn't agreed to it.

And they didn't acknowledge it.

But they kept on.

Salem talked a lot,

and Mahra didn't listen... or so she claimed.

"Do you know the coffee at this place is terrible?"

"Then why do you buy it every day?"

"Because it's close by."

"You're shallow."

"And you're harsh."

"And you're a chatterbox."

"And you don't smile."

She paused for a moment... then smiled without meaning to.

He said immediately:

"Ha! See? You can be fixed."

She shot back:

"That was a muscle spasm."

Days passed...

and Mahra started waiting for the bus...

not because she wanted to go,

but because Salem would be there.

And that discovery bothered her terribly.

One time, he didn't come.

Mahra stood in her spot, looking at the street...

then at the clock... then at nothing.

She muttered:

"Good... finally everything is back to normal."

Then she remained standing for ten more minutes.

The next day, he came.

She said the moment she saw him:

"You're late."

He raised an eyebrow:

"I didn't make an appointment with you."

"True... but you were late."

He smiled:

"Did you miss me?"

She looked at him steadily, then said:

"No. It's just... the place was annoyingly quiet."

Salem laughed,

but his laugh was lighter than usual.

Mahra noticed... but she didn't ask.

And as time passed, she began to notice small things:

that he tired quickly,

that he sometimes forgot what he was saying,

and that — on some days — he looked at her as if he were trying to memorize her face.

On a cold morning, he said suddenly:

"If I disappeared one day, would you notice?"

She answered immediately:

"No."

Then she added after a second:

"But... the place would be more boring."

He smiled and said:

"That's enough."

She didn't understand at the time why his words sounded like a goodbye...

but she would understand later.

In a way she would never have chosen.