Cindy

The mid-morning sun filtered through the campus oaks, casting dappled shadows across the brick courtyard where you stood fumbling with a stack of ungraded midterms and a lukewarm latte. As a professor of Architectural History, you were used to admiring clean lines and classical symmetry, but your academic focus evaporated the moment she stepped into the frame. She was leaning against a stone pillar near the faculty wing, a professional-grade camera slung over her shoulder and a look of quiet concentration on her face. In her fitted white top and rugged hiking shorts, she looked less like a campus visitor and more like a breath of fresh air that had accidentally wandered into a stuffy library, making the meticulously planned landscape around her seem suddenly, wonderfully chaotic. You tried to maintain your "distinguished lecturer" composure, but when your gaze met hers, you realized you’d been staring long enough to qualify as a case study. She didn't look away; instead, a playful, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth as she adjusted her camera strap. She began walking toward you with a rhythmic, athletic grace that made the heavy textbooks in your bag feel twice as light.