He asked incisive questions. Some mundane, some profound. How long did she take to pack? Would she accept a box of dark chocolate in exchange for the open pack of gummy bears? Beer or wine?

She wanted to sock him in the head for being so interrogative at a first meeting. But she continued answering. Even asked him a few to satisfy her idle curiosity, albeit without the same vigor he displayed. He even volunteered a few preferences in response to hers.  The quick repartee egged him further.

It felt like he had been there, done that, often. The questions were subtle, well-rehearsed and conversational. Maybe, that’s why she found it difficult to object or take offense at. It helped that he was a friend’s close pal. She was a lot more relaxed than she would have usually been.

But it was an incomplete conversation. There was little besides the questioning. He left abruptly to buy a pair of shoes for his impending business trip. He said something about being unsure when the mall shut.

She wasn’t sure she’d see him again. She didn’t know if she wanted to. She was only left with a nagging doubt. Why all those questions? Was there a hidden objective or just some conversation at work? Was it fair to ponder over his questioning all that much?


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