Starry Eyed

I've been quite ill for the last couple of days. Coughing, fever, sneezing, all part of the deal...

Yesterday evening I had to go to my weekly voice training lessons. I felt terrible and I practically didn't have a voice at all, so there was nothing to train about. I would meet my trainer at the info desk at a cultural centre near my house. We would see eachother at 19.15. So I waited at the info desk. In the entrance-hall there was beautiful piano music being played. At first I thought It was a CD, but the tones were so clear, it had to be a live act. My trainer was running very late, so I decided to take a look at the instigator of this lovely music. The pianist was a guy, I guess twenty years old, and I could only see his back. The music switched from classical to funky jazz. The way he was playing the piano was very fascinating. He was wholly absorbed in his work. I thought by myself, that the guy looked really handsome from the back, and I was curious what his face would look like. All of a sudden he stopped playing. He stood up and looked right at me. I felt like my judgement of human nature let me down. For no reason at all, I thought that a creature that could produce such a wonderful music, had to be very attractive. Instead of that, the pianist had the scariest eyes in the world. And that's an understatement. His pupils were huge and the edges of his eyelids were red, just like an animal. I was frightened, only because of the way he was staring at me. I thought he was on some kind of drugs perhaps, but because of the setting, that seemed unlikely to me. He just ripped me apart with his eyes, and I could already see the headlines in the paper: 'Girl (18) raped and brutally murdered by guy with weird eyes'...

At that moment, the female receptionist calls my name, eventhough I've never seen her before. In her hands she's got a phone, and she tells my it's my trainer calling. My trainer tells me she's ill as well, and she's not able to make it tonight. I was relieved. Now I could just go home and sleep. When I looked up, the guy was playing jazz again. I passed by him, on my way to the exit, and when I glanced at him once more, he winked at me. A weird wink, like he knew I didn't wanted to be there.

Maybe I am overreacting,  but that guy just had some strange vibes.

Always trust your instincts.