He should have verified of being out of her field vision, before exulting with a old-fashioned galop in the middle of the street.
He was struggling to get his ticket out. The creased hands shaking, although this had nothing to do with the queue of people that formed behind him.
She tapped the floor impatiently – it was 8:17 and she already was not aware of the amount of caffeine now spinning in her veins. Nonetheless, when he turned behind him with an astonished expression on his tired face, she did but smiled politely.
She grabbed the end of the skirt and exclaimed “This is really pretty indeed”, whispering as she folded the hem and noticing the loose stitches in the inside.
She was waiting for him to get ready, lingering her eyes on some knickknacks around – porcelain elephants, old grocery tickets, pens from work.
By the time he came back with a different shirt on, he noticed the shelves being much tidier.
They were sitting next to each other and both staring the screen of her phone: and now that he got closer to her, he noticed clumps of a yellowish glue at the base of her eyelashes.
Not satisfied of what she had seen, still she closed the mirror door and left the bedroom.
Looking at him, she was not quite sure he’d still think sometimes about the years they spent together.