006: shy

She bit her lip for the eightieth time. Every day, the young woman would walk down this street, always seeing the same smiling face. And yet, without fail, each time they passed along that street, she would try to build the courage needed to say something--anything--but only wind from the butterflies' flapping wings would escape her lips. And so every day she would walk on by, hoping that the next day would finally bring the words she needed.

Yet, today was different. Without thinking, she looked over her shoulder. The same smiling face was looking back.

And blushing.