Love in the Mist

AN'

e these, where the mundane becomes something more. Through my lens, the world feels different. There's an intimacy in every public space if you look close enough. People are running their errands, checking vegetables,

you begin to see the stories-each person living a life in their own bubble, a private moment shared in the midst of t

She's wearing earphones, listening to music, her eyes scanning the produce. She pauses in front of the tomatoes, touching each one carefully as though she's searching for something that only she k

s hers. My camera and I are lost in the same thought: how can something so simple be so captivating? I keep clicking, each photo a little more of her than the last, until, sudden

f the silent conversation we've just had through the lens. I

ing the perfect tomatoes," I say, attempting to

eyes. It's a smile that could light up the grayest of day

he question doesn't feel too intrusive, bu

up at me with a soft chuckle. "I love being around books, talkin

nd you only hear in people who have found their purpose.

her?" she inquires, her

trying to downplay it. "I'm act

era, then back again, as though trying to connect the dots of the life I've just shared with her. Then, almost as

not in need of words, yet somehow still communicating. We walk for what feels like an eternity, the nois

y, breaking the silenc

now, the suburban streets beg

about it?" I ask,

f-something that makes you feel alive. Your hobby, your passion. And you manage to do both well." She says it so simply, but

in the air. I think for a moment, unsure of how to respond, but

o on and on. But I think what it boils down to is this: life hands us different kinds of lemons. And the lemonade you make with them shouldn't be co

her eyes-a quiet contemplation, as if my words have struck a chord somewhere dee

st wistful. She gestures to the house in front of us, the place

n't realize how far we'd walked." I say, my words faltering slightly.

sun breaking through the clouds. "Maybe, but not

ehind, my mind racing. There's something about her-something different. She's unlike anyone I've met before, a

something undeniably magnetic about her-something that makes me want to know more, to understand the story she hasn't shared ye