I noticed her before she noticed me.
She moved into the building across the street in early spring, when the city still carried traces of winter in its bones. I recognized the look on her face the first morning she walked into the café—half-tired, half-somewhere-else. People like us don't always carry sadness in obvious ways. Sometimes it lives in the pause before a smile or the way someone stares too long at nothing.
I didn’t plan to watch her. But her window faced mine. And every morning, like clockwork, she opened it just enough to let in the world—and let out her voice.
She hummed.
Low and soft, like a secret she hadn’t quite told herself yet. A melody repeated enough times that I started learning it, even though I didn’t know the name. It wasn’t a popular tune. It wasn’t anything I’d heard on the radio or found on any playlist.
It was hers.
I started sitting at Table Nine after the first week. The seat gave me just the right view of her reflection in the café window. She never looked inside, but I think part of her knew I was there.
One morning, she laughed into her phone.103Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtI9F5GU0XF
Just once. Brief. But it cracked something open in me.
That sound stayed with me longer than it should have.
She reminded me of a story I tried to write once—about a girl who sang to heal people without realizing she was bleeding herself. I deleted it years ago. But when I saw her, I started rewriting pieces of it in my head.
She was always alone.103Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtbRZDKR8Nm
So was I.103Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLCjTjagill
And for a long time, that felt normal.
But then came the rain.
And she didn’t hum that morning.
She sat outside, soaked, shivering—not from the cold, but from something deeper. And in that moment, every version of me that wanted to stay invisible decided to break its own rule.
I crossed the street.103Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgjvkYHzN5N
Took out my earbud.103Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAmfPSz2nFk
Offered it to her.
I didn’t say, “Are you okay?”103Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡriPgmCJ8fS
I didn’t ask anything at all.
Just—103Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnTi9T1drcH
“Listen.”
To the song she didn’t know I had memorized.103Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfjDlJCTxHs
To the one I’d been keeping for her.
She looked at me like I’d stolen a page out of her diary.
But the truth was, I had only been listening.103Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAUJfUDrb7y
And maybe, sometimes, that’s enough to start a story worth writing.103Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyjDsBcQycn
103Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVzZEkxwFk6
and then Add to home screen.