Jenny

Her instant reaction to Dylan surprised Jenny. She had simply glanced at him on her way to sit with her friends and something pulled her to him. It wasn’t like her at all – but, his eyes seemed to penetrate her – inviting her to him.

Forcing herself to expand beyond his gaze, she recognized Angela sitting with him. She also saw the Tolstoy book on the table – her favorite. How silly she must have sounded making such a fuss about the book – but his broad smile in response sent shivers through her.

She vaguely remembered acknowledging Angela and found herself waving her friends over as she sat as close as possible to Dylan. She unconsciously brushed his arm and felt electric … “where did that sensation come from?” she wondered. She found herself babbling about Anna Karenina, but started to sense Dylan was as entranced as she was … a warm feeling welled up in her.

She couldn’t look away from Dylan when Sara and Monique came up to the table. She just kept staring into his eyes as she introduced them to Angela – forgetting to introduce them to Dylan, as he pulled her deeper into him … how was he doing that?

She felt certain Angela and Dylan weren’t a couple – not the way Dylan was looking into her. She found it odd that Angela hadn’t mentioned Dylan to her. Though in honesty, she and Angela were just getting to know each other – having met when Angela saw her creating a painting of this café a couple of weeks ago.

Like so many other young artists, she and Angela – as well as Sara and Monique – came here to immerse themselves in the “Van Gogh” atmosphere. Typically, the artists bonded in a common spirit of creative searching – feeding off of each other’s energy. Yet, Jenny hadn’t quite connected with Angela – it was as if there was this strange negative field between them – maybe Dylan…

Angela’s voice sounded like an intrusion, until Jenny heard the words “will you be alright by yourself?” Without thinking, she replied for him, “Dylan can spend some time with me tomorrow – we can talk more about Tolstoy.” Yes, so unlike her – tomorrow she thought … and smiled.

Artist: Vincent Van Gogh; Author: Mike Evans