Sounds of modern-life crescendoed. The whine of the old bus’s engine grew to an all-encompassing groan and the level of the chatter rose to meet it, leaving no room for the twittering of birds or the caress of the wind as it breezed past the ear. Phones buzzed and pinged and crackled out distorted music, filling out the room left amongst the high notes. How anyone could even think (never mind talk) over the racket escaped me.

My gaze drifted, in search of something peaceful to distract my grouchy thoughts. Not much luck to be had in the city, though, boring houses lining the streets and, heading uphill, turning around to look at the view would have been troublesome. Of course, inside the bus proved no better. Animated discussions, unnatural enthusiasm for so early in the morning, and a general sense of chaotic happiness from the university students. Perhaps they inhabited a world without deadlines and word counts.

I didn’t continue that train of thought, unhappy with myself for blaming others on my own foul mood. If I’d done the work at a proper pace, I wouldn’t have had to stay up so late and overslept and forgotten my book at home. At the least, I would’ve caught the usual bus which had half the people and a quarter the noise.

No one to blame, I kept reminding myself, letting my eyes wander.

Then I saw her. Why it took so long, I didn’t know. Headphones—a cute little bow tied onto it by her one ear—set her apart from the world. I wondered if she could even hear whatever she listened to, but concluded she must be able to because she swayed to a gentle beat. The angle between us awkward, I couldn’t really see her face; however, it looked like the corner of her mouth smiled.

More than all of that, though, she appeared to glow. Blonde hair shimmered in the light and white shirt caught the amber sun and pale skin glittered, surrounding her with an aura that varied between white and gold.

As though an angel had graced us with her presence.

I didn’t want to be caught staring, but she wouldn’t stop being in my peripheral vision, a lighthouse amongst the stormy world. The word serene came to mind, how she looked reading her book. It created a discord inside me as I became stuck between wanting the cacophony to end and wishing to watch her a little longer.

The journey couldn’t last forever. At the end of the line, the bus shuddered to a halt, half-toppling some oblivious students who relied on their likeness to sardines to remain upright. I needed to rush to get to the lecture on time, knowing that I wouldn’t dare enter late, and skipping even one without good reason the start down a troublingly easy path of failure.

Yet I waited for the masses to shuffle their way out. Only after they emptied did I stand up and take a step forward, then touched her shoulder. If she had been visiting from heaven, she felt real enough, warm.

“We’re at the campus,” I said, realising too late that she wouldn’t have heard.

She closed her book and looked at me with the smile I had guessed. I became more sure that she may be divine.

“Thank you,” she said with a soft tone and loud voice. It made me want to laugh, her volume messed up by the headphones. Maybe my humour showed because she frowned a touch, cute wrinkles forming at the bridge of her nose.

Not wanting to sour the moment or the memory, I tried to smile as warmly as she had, then continued down the aisle. Though I hadn’t dragged my heels, she had caught up by the time I exited, the gentle clack of her shoes followed me along the path.

I entertained the thought that she was doing so on purpose and any moment we would begin a romcom-like argument as she asked me what had been so funny. Then, I returned to reality where that interaction had meant nothing. Something that would be forgotten by the end of the day, if not the hour.

Without a destination in mind, I absent-mindedly went along the familiar route to the small lake—really more of a large pond—that I enjoyed for its tranquillity. Far from the bustle of students, nary a noise could be heard there. Crickets and ducks and the odd fish were all that took away from the wind. Even so much as a hum could surely be heard from across the other side, so quiet the place.

And, I realised, the clacking I’d grown used to continued behind me, and, as I surely thought, humming came through clearly amongst the near-silence.

Rather than a nuisance, I found the melody beautiful. Perhaps, I thought, she had meant to taunt me who dared mock her. If her intentions were so, she had rather failed. Coming to my preferred bench, I once more found myself pained over whether or not to stop and risk losing her. But I knew to sit, to keep my buoyed mood from floating away to the skies.

To my unexpected disappointment, she continued onwards, walking closer to the water’s edge. While the weather had been pleasant, I tended to avoid the grass. In the morning at least, wet with dew, it required careful navigation lest the slope offer a sacrifice to the fish. She appeared to find no problems with traction, though, her feet moving with grace, her body moving with that same, gentle sway. The sun must have done its work well and dried the ground.

While self-conscious, there was no one else around and her own engagement with the book in her hands wore down my reluctance to watch. So, I did watch as she danced to a little further away.

I’d thought she wore a blouse and skirt, but actually a summer dress. Given its length, gown fitted better in my mind. She lowered herself to the floor and the dress pooled around her, covering her legs entirely. Her attention hadn’t left her reading at any point either and, squinting to make out the front, I realised it to be a music book of some sort. That would explain why she hadn’t noticed the bus stopping, being so involved in her listening, I thought.

The wind picked up, whipping her hair and, as I looked up, bringing dark clouds. I’d not brought an umbrella, the skies having looked so clear. Then again, given my rush, I may have forgotten one even if it had been raining as I left.

That made me wonder if she would be okay since she may not even have noticed a sudden downpour. Well, I couldn’t say that, knowing nothing about her really. Still, I did worry and, as much as the nightmare of her thinking me a stalker seemed a possibility, I decided to wait. After all, there was no way the clouds would decide to break in the moment they spent above us.

I sighed, wishing for better thoughts to plague me. Then again, given I was skipping the lecture, keeping my thoughts on topics less likely to bring up anxiety was probably the better choice.

As though she had the same thought, her lips parted, drawing my attention. Notes left her, more beautiful than her humming, than the way she looked on the bus. The sweetest music to my ears.

Not to be outdone, a drizzle started, plump raindrops splattering on the grass. As I’d expected, she showed no signs of reacting; however, I was secretly glad at that, her singing unaffected.

A trick of the sun no doubt, she appeared to glow once more. The rain did too, drops of gold falling from high above. Sparkling, glittering, shimmering, and that was just her. Must have been the sunlight. The angle between us perfect so she caught it all, an entire star reflecting back at me. A star, before me. The wind sent her hair fluttering behind her, giving her a trail like a shooting star. So bright, and beautiful, in sight and sound.

Must have been a moment of coincidences, that gave a fleeting vision of beauty which went beyond any I had ever seen.

So then why, why didn’t she look any less so when the rain stopped, and the sun hid behind the clouds, and her singing ended?

Why did my heart race when she looked over at me and smiled softly?

Why did I have to fall in love so unexpectedly?