The man who stood before her did not appear to be much older than herself. He was thin and tall. She could not tell if he was Middle Eastern or Indian. Bushy eyebrows framed his almond-shaped eyes. They were the color of melted chocolate. They peered down at her from an almost uncomfortably close distance. They were as trusting as they were curious. His face was almost childlike, only a hint of stubble gracing his chin and upper lip. Even though his long nose, prominent ears and thin upper lip made it so that he would not be what most people would consider handsome, there was something that Aria found stately and tempting about him.

“Do you need help finding anything?” he asked.

“Nah, I’m just looking around,” she said.

“OK. I am Omkar,” he said, putting his hand against his chest. “Tell me if you need anything.” His accent stressed the syllables rhythmically, the words almost entirely spoken in the front of his mouth. She liked the way he put emphasis on the wrong syllables. It made him all the more endearing.

He looked almost disappointed at her rejection. She couldn’t work out whether the let-down she felt was due to the fact that he had worked out that “just looking around” meant “probably not going to buy anything.” Or whether it was because he was lonely and desperate for the discourse implied in showing her around the store.

Aria felt bad for having stolen anything from a man who was so obviously nice. But it was too late to change her mind now. She wandered through the aisles to deceive him into thinking she had looked around without finding anything interesting to buy. She was fully aware of Omkar restlessly waiting behind the checkout stand in case she was to indicate the need for his assistance. Aria was impressed that so much of his personal energy filled up the room. His essence was so thick it nearly sucked the breath out of the room. This was not the kind of place that a man with such obvious charisma would normally be found.

After a few minutes, she made her way to the door and said “thanks” before stepping outside of it. She heard his voice yell out behind her, “Thank you, come back again.” Aria felt strange leaving, as if by stepping into the store, she had exited her own life and entered his. She hadn’t realized how her own story had faded into the background of the thick smell of Punjab spices when she was walking around the shop. Suddenly, the street outside felt colder and her loneliness more bleak. As she walked back to the church, she used the momentum of her body to emotionally push through and past the way the feel of him haunted her.