This is about a girl. The one who sat on the couch, lost in the digital world of her Mac. She caught my eye, partly because no one else did and partly because her black coat and scarf exuded a certain sense of style in contrast to the homeliness of the hostel. When Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment bored me, I stole the occasional glance at her, for nothing awakens the mind like physical beauty. She would still be intently staring at the screen, but that sight was enough, to satisfy and not to excite. Between then and the dinner, I only recall once when she sat the the table next to mine and munched through her lunch, though this time, at close proximity, I dared not turn my face in her direction and be caught stealing glances at her. "The chicken is too big for me." she stated, poking the roasted chicken thigh under the aluminium foil. I used the forceps to lift it and affirm her observation, though devoid of any solution, I helped myself to it. I grabbed a healthy