“It looks like an eye, that’s why I chose it.” – “I guess you see things that others don’t. Not necessarily looking at the world. But in people. You see them deeply.”
I’m sitting at a table made out of oyster shells, around us a translucent curtain suggesting privacy though we are absolutely visible, to anyone passing by. Her fingers are delicate, holding the shell that I chose in her palm, softly tracing the back, pointing out the two spines of this particularly unusual oyster, opening the shell softly with expertise. I try not to hold my breath but I probably do, in situations like this, I always hold it in, something about talking to a stranger, in a strange setting, but these are strange times: “So shall we see what the oyster reveals inside? The future it withholds?”
I nod.