I woke up this morning and I just knew that it was going to be a beautiful day.

The sun was out, but it was not the sweltering kind of heat.  The wind was mellow enough not to ruin anyone’s hair or fly hats in its subtle clutches. The breeze was its perfect sort of temperature and all the ladies could enjoy themselves wearing their favourite summer dress, as I did.

It was magnificent, really.

 “Thank you.”

I smiled at the girl behind the counter as she handed me my iced caramel macchiato.

As with days that were this pretty, my afternoons were pre-planned to be spent in the café near my apartment, in my usual spot, with my favourite drink within reach of my fingertips, accompanied by my faithful companion: my laptop.

With my baby tucked safely inside my satchel, I walked over to the two-person seat by the shop’s window. It overlooked everything outside; the men in suits who were always in a hurry, the couples who laughed merrily, hand-in-hand, the students who were on their way home and anything and everything that could possibly graze that part of the sidewalk.

It was all so perfect for a writer.

A girl with a couple of big ideas could use a little inspiration.

The baby pink laptop was now settled well enough on the table in front of me. I took a sip from the coffee cup and flexed my phalanges; a tiny routine that I did just before I let the tips of my fingers touch the keyboard.

I took a deep breath and gazed at the scene widely presented to me, by the world, itself.

Usually, it took a while for that sense of eureka to kick in; to pop by the sidewalk and catch my line of sight. Ordinarily, I was welcomed by red fire hydrants, parked cars, people with vacant stares and worst of all circumstances, an empty sidewalk.

How lucky was I because it seems as if today was not like most days.

The spark came to me so suddenly, I almost missed it. And yet it was right there, waiting by the sidewalk across from the one I was in.

It was wearing a dark blue vest over a button down shirt with a bow tie in interesting patterns; so simple and yet, so complex at the same time. It also happened to be sporting a smile; the kind that danced naturally in the lips of sincere strangers.

I have no idea how he pulled it off the way he did.

But he did.

I seriously thought that spark could ignite the whole being of a person.

My thoughts were racing frantically and yet my typing reflexes, which I thought were always on track, were useless at the moment.

All I could do was stare.

He was not looking at all in my direction and yet I wanted him to. But I also did not want that because maybe he would think that I was undressing him with my eyes (which I was not— I was brought up a little better than that, mind you).

He was just so interesting.

The man on the other side of the road was like a puzzle that was calling for me to sort out, piece by color