"Neil Gaiman Books Are Nice" (Short Fictions and An Illusion)

“But I didn't touch her. She was my dream;

and if you touch a dream it vanishes, like a soap bubble.”

                                        Looking For The Girl, Smoke And Mirrors

     It was the 40th edition of Manila International Book Fair at  MOA and he was inside the National Bookstore, browsing through a pile of Neil Gaiman books.
      “Neil Gaiman books are nice,” the lady beside him said in a pretty and happy-sounding voice while he held Smoke And Mirrors in his hand. The blurb said it contained short fictions and illusions.  He glanced at her and saw that she was pretty: long black wavy hair, fair skin, playful eyes, Duchess nose and Goldilocks lips; he was certain she would brighten up any room she entered. She wore eyeglasses  and he always had his bias towards bespectacled ladies.

      He nodded. “I often give them as gifts,” he told her.

      Her eyes widened a bit. “I often receive them as gifts," she said, her mouth shaping beautifully when she spoke.

      They chuckled simultaneously.

      “What a coincidence,” he smiled wryly.

      “But they often end up as giveaways to my friends,” she confessed.

      He winced a bit. “You said you like the works of Neil Gaiman.”

      “Yeah,” she said, her mouth slightly contorting. “But I don’t like the giver.” 

      She chuckled and  he didn’t know why but that bit of info made him miserable.

      “But I’m sure, whoever receives your gifts appreciates it," she said, sounding patronizingly.

      He forced a smile. “I hope so,” he said. “Gifts are meant to be appreciated whoever the giver is.” He smiled and nodded at her, then he started walking towards the cashier with the Smoke And Mirrors book. When he glanced at where she was, he saw that she had vanished, like a soap bubble, like a fleeting illusion.