Chapter 1: The First Week

It seems so strange, now, that only a year ago I did not even know her name. But it is true. She was only one of a gray mass of colleagues working in other departments, one to walk past in corridors with at most a slight inclination of one's head.

She was not remarkable to me then, in any way. True, she was beautiful, but so are many other women. A few years older than me. Ten, perhaps? She was neither tall nor short. She wasn't fat, but not skinny either. Her hair was of a common color, and so were her eyes. That she once was unremarkable ... Unconceivable!

She did, as far as I can remember, only set herself apart from others in one way. Her demeanor was that of a prude, proper woman, a librarian, a feminist. Someone who never lost control, never gave anything away, never invited any kind of attention.

But her clothes were certainly not prudish. I had expected someone like her to wear pants, comfortable shoes, and a sweater or anonymous shirt.

Not so. She wore black shoes with high heels. Not too high, not too thin, but in that troublesome border area between where men's eyes were caught and where the shoes were still usable. And her skirts always reached her knees, making a man's eyes move slowly up her lovely legs, and suffer a small sting of disappointment when they reached the hem. Some consolation could be had from letting the eyes in secret linger on her bosom. What a tight sweater was hinting at was invariably framed by a classy jacket.