“Hey. How is it going? Did you just arrive?”
“Hey. Nah. I arrived at 5 pm, around that. Just went back to get my bag. Did you just come in?”
“Yeah. Traffic was bad.”
“True. But that’s kinda normal, I guess. From work?”
“Yes. What a week. How’s your work?”
“Well, like that. Endless things to do.”
“Work never ends. You always came here?”
“Most of the time. I mean, I’ve tried other places. But most of the time, I come here. What about you?”
“Just here. Other places are definitely out of reach for me.”
“Rule of thumb: gotta find place to exercise either closer to your work or your home.”
“Agree. Your work place is quite nearby, I assume?”
“Okay. I ride, so it’s quite bearable.”
“That explains your jacket on weekdays.”
“Yeah. And all the bags.”
“Do you have to carry those everyday?”
“I don’t have any other options.”
“And you still manage to come here everyday?”
“I try to make it everyday. And I guess you come every other day?”
“Close enough. Two days or three days in a row, then a day break, then another two to three. Gotta listen to what your body says.”
“After a while, you know your body rhythm.”
“Yeah. Are you with your trainer today?”
“Today? Nah. Not today. I’ll just run on my own.”
“Me, too. I mean, I just run.”
“I … Well, I notice that.”
“Right. Yeah. Okay. This is my spot.”
“Alright.”
“Alright. See you.”
“Yes.”
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All the conversations that could’ve happened. All the imagination that only exists in mind. Instead, the words are replaced by distant gazes. Mere gazes. The sights seen at great length that they mute words and voices. The eyes that see only with miraculous hope that the object will feel being seen and return the glances. Alas, it remains a wishful thinking.
How is it that one word with two letters can carry infinite possibilities?
How is it that one word with two letters be the hardest word to say?
How does one start saying … “Hi”?