@Insideme 11 August 2025 more from that month

"A smile in the corridor" The Next Day We returned to the district court the next morning — earlier this time, around 10:30. The sun was already sharp, slicing through dusty air, painting golden streaks on the walls of that old government building. My mind told me I was here for paperwork. But my heart whispered otherwise. We sat again outside the office — same bench, same wait. And like some silent prayer answered — *he was there again.* Same uniform. Same stillness. Same quiet presence that made everything else blur. This time, I couldn’t stop myself from watching him a little longer. And once again — *he looked back.* A flicker. Not long enough for stories, but long enough for butterflies. I turned away, biting my lip, smiling at the floor. My phone sat in my hand, and before I could think it through, *an idea slipped in.* *“Should I… take a picture?”* Just one. Just to remember. Just for me. I opened my camera, pretending to scroll through my gallery, positioning the phone just enough to capture a corner of the corridor — *where he stood.* My heart was racing. I could hear the thump of my chest more than the voices around me. Fingers trembling just a little, I tapped the screen. The shutter sound was off — I made sure. *Click.* A quick shot. I didn’t even check it. Locked the phone instantly. Felt guilty. Felt… shy. *What if someone saw me?* What if *he* did? I looked up. He hadn’t moved. Eyes still looking elsewhere. Still calm. Still him. I exhaled. A strange joy bloomed inside me. Not because I got the picture. But because I’d dared. Because I wanted to remember someone I hadn’t even spoken to. Later, when we were called in, my fingers itched to check the photo. But I didn’t. Some things are better when left untouched — like a secret between your eyes and your heart. When we stepped out again, he was still there. This time, I allowed myself a smile. And maybe — just maybe — I saw him smile too. A faint curve. A quiet reply. My work still wasn’t fully done. Another form. Another visit. But I didn’t mind. Because something was beginning. Not a love story — *yet.* But something that made me look forward to the next day.