She didn’t even look down. Her eyes sort of shivered side to side and then settled in the outer corners; one looking left, the other right.

I nearly laughed outloud as an image of Homer Simpson on drugs and then an absurdly ugly chihuahua sprinted across my brain. She had to have seen me trying to hold it in but maybe not. She may not have been able to see me at all, with one eye staring at the mini blinds, the other at a potted plant.

Then, almost imperceptably, a flash of light appeared in each pupil. I thought I had imagined it but it startled me enough to make me duck.

My glasses still had a small piece of tape on them from my last encounter with her. I had an appointment that afternoon to get them repaired.

I convinced myself that I was ready for anything, but what came next no one could have anticipated.