A Sign of Peace.

She was just sitting there, just sitting right outside the Starbucks with all of the writers in their business suits that had laptops and briefcases. All she had was a small paperback book that’s binding was cheaply processed and already broken; she was on chapter three.

Charlotte tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, a breeze beginning to pick up. The sun was out. It was a beautiful day outside, and birds were singing and flying through sunlight.

She stared down at the page through her aviator shades.

Things were still bright.

Charlotte remembered how the sunshine just poured when she first saw Christofer.

He was just walking down the street, a pair of tennis shoes on his feet and a guitar slung across his back. His hands were buried in his pockets, and for some reason, a small smile was hung loosely on his pierced lips. His head faced sunwards.

Today was a good day.

Usually, Christofer could be found with a cigarette in hand, or at least one perched in his mouth, smoke strangling itself out of the white papered tobacco. Today, however, he held nothing. He had but the guitar and his shoes to carry with him, and as he came upon the Starbucks, he decided that he might also need a coffee to fuel himself with.

A few of those men, who looked as if they were all writing something entirely too important to be bothered by anyone at all, shot glances at Christofer. He just smiled at them, and they raised their eyebrows. To them, he must have looked quite out of the uniform they all donned; a business suit complete with a briefcase for all of their work-related undertakings. They all had looks of mild scorn upon their faces, giving him only a moment of their time before going back to furiously typing on their keyboards.

Right away, Christofer didn’t notice Charlotte. She blended in with the businessmen, and Christofer just walked right on past her into the shop. It was on his way back outside that he saw her. It was on his way back outside that his breath caught in his throat.

He just stopped right in the middle of the sidewalk and stared at her blatantly. She had her head in a book; she looked like one of those girls that read a lot, someone intelligent enough to know not to read anything but fiction. She had on a pair of jean overalls on over a loose tank top, a headband around her head, and her fingernails painted a chipped purple. She had her hair in two little pigtails.

She was such a mess.

When she felt his eyes on her, she looked right up at him. She looked him over as well, her senses flaring.

He was a mess, too.

Immediately, he was embarrassed to have been caught staring at anyone so long, particularly this girl. And for reasons he wasn’t quite certain why, he looked right down at his feet and started walking off. Embarrassment, perhaps. In any case, he just wanted to dart right out of there and not look back.

“Hey.”

Charlotte made him look back.

“Hi,” he said.

He was flustered.

She just looked at him for another moment, then let an involuntary smile creep up on her. And she didn’t even mind. She didn’t mind a thing about him.

He smiled back.

And what he didn’t realize, was that right then, he’d done it. It was nothing more than an unintentional glance at a girl reading a book, but that’s all it takes to find that one person, sometimes.

Christofer had done it.

He’d found her.