Something that exerted the same force whenever two pairs of eyes met, as had theirs here at the well.
She smiled, and that was certainly an omen—the omen he had been awaiting, without even knowing he was, for all his life.
The omen he had sought to find with his sheep and in his books, in the crystals and in the silence of the desert.
It was the pure Language of the World. It required no explanation, just as the universe needs none as it travels through endless time.
What the boy felt at that moment was that he was in the presence of the only woman in his life,
and that, with no need for words, she recognized the same thing.
He was more certain of it than of anything in the world. He had been told by his parents and grandparents
that he must fall in love and really know a person before becoming committed.
But maybe people who felt that way had never learned the universal language.
Because, when you know that language, it’s easy to understand that someone in the world awaits you,
whether it’s in the middle of the desert or in some great city.
And when two such people encounter each other, and their eyes meet, the past and the future become unimportant.
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