It is raining slowly, during an early autumn, when the streets are flooded with orange-red autumn leaves announcing their presence to many admiring passersby. The leaves are trapped inside puddles big enough to sail tiny boats.
The sky turns blue, and raindrops invade the avenue.
Andre had finished school for the day, and was heading home. Shortly, before he took a sharp turn towards his house, a young girl swings by, with legs and hips that attract his attention. She slowly bends to pick a red-orange leaf, and glances at a handsome boy behind her. His thick moist lips, his large ears proportional to his face, and his sinewy body stimulate a fleeting glance, but that does not stop her from minding her business, and continuing her deliberate walk. He could not determine the meaning of the glance, and yet decides to pursue her.
His eyes lavish attention on her body, first the legs, then the hips, and then her deliberate walk, which exude confidence and purpose. He consumes her body with his hungry eyes.
Andre is in a mood for love.
Andre leaves no doubt that he is simply stunned by her looks. His eyes say it all, and his thin fast legs propel him to follow her footsteps, without being noticed.
She walks well over a mile, past many small and large streets filled with little shops, salons, and cafés. He devotedly follows her every step of the way. Not once does she turn so that he could take a second look at her, to assure himself that she is indeed beautiful, and that his eyes are not deceiving him, as he learned from his philosophy course about the unreliability of our senses, particularly when we fall in love at first sight.
That is not happening. He hopes that it will happen before she vanishes.