The girl whose table I occupied was reading a book but I couldn’t help but notice that all this time, she was secretly watching me.
“You are beautiful.”
I took my eyes off my phone and I saw the girl talking to me. I was embarrassed and didn’t know what to say or how to react.
It was long past midnight. Laura's music played on. It was composed in the language of stars, tinkling in a crystal pool suspended from constellations. She used chimes now and then, the chimes that characterized every patio in Arizona, the piano, the trees combed by wind. A prelude to a storm. It was like discovering the secret room in a dream of your house that holds all the magic. It was music I wished I lived inside. Around us, cactus, hills filled with jumping cholla, the heat of August like another animal heaving over us.