Damn she looked beautiful.I just kept looking at her shamelessly and unaware that she was probably embarrassed.“Mrs Sharma, are you okay?” I asked...She was silent. Then said “yes”. Then she was silent again. Just standing there and avoiding looking at me.“I’m sorry. I should go” I said. It wasn’t any of my business anyway and she was clearly uncomfortable with me around gawking at her. I went back upstairs, lay on my bed and kept thinking of her. Her face I saw a little while ago. Her soft,. It was focused on the fireplace, the stone indentation in that flat rock wall. That would have to serve as both a cooking fire, and their source of heat in winter. Thus, she had put a long kitchen counter along the eastern wooden wall to be built out from the north-south stone wall, interrupted with a doorway into a large storage pantry. In front of the fire was a long bench/ couch, for sitting on during long evenings. The idea of sitting before a roaring fire with a blizzard raging outside. More

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