Now of course we kept exchanging glances; sometimes over the desk monitor, sometimes between the monitors of two strangers, under the right-angled arm of a another; sometimes while we’re walking down the aisle and one of us senses the presence of the other, or when we’re both walking down the aisle, towards each other, pretending when we are still far away to not notice each other, to look away and anywhere else but at each other, and only when the distance becomes intimate, do we peer up and steal a glance at each other. Yesterday too, I happened to be searching for my card to enter the office, and it happened that you were just coming out. I caught a glimpse of your hair – the colour gradient is quite distinctive – through the tiny window on the door, and just waited for you to push it open. Upon opening it, you saw me; looked at me and smiled. You smiled a curious smile, as if you were aware of all that was happening, and what else could I do but smile back just as curiously. It was approaching dusk and people had begun leaving. I was hovering around my seat, waiting, waiting, waiting. I acted as if I were contemplating some piece of work, giving support and advice to my partner who was still on hers. But really, the reason for my loitering was so that I could leave when you leave. But I wasn’t paying as much attention to your direction as I should have, and when finally looked up, you were gone. Every day, you seem to elude me. And yet, we continue throwing each other these glances as if there was kept beneath the surface a secret dalliance.