A Chance Click That Opened a New World
It happened almost by accident. I was scrolling on my phone, half-distracted, when a familiar name popped up among “people you may know.” It was hers.
Curious, I tapped on the profile.
The screen filled with color. Not photos of clean countertops or folded towels, but paintings. Bold, luminous paintings. Sunrises exploding in orange and gold. Stormy skies brushed in deep blues and purples. Faces filled with emotion, eyes that seemed to follow you, full of hope and sorrow at the same time.
Mixed in with the artwork were bits of poetry. Short lines, handwritten or typed, about love and loneliness, about childhood memories, about standing at the edge of the sea and feeling both small and free. There were photographs, too: tiny fishing villages, seagulls in flight, wrinkled hands holding wildflowers, older women smiling with flowers tucked into their hair.
I sat there in my comfortable chair, in my spotless living room, staring at image after image.
How could this be the same woman who quietly scrubbed my sink?
It felt like I had opened a secret door and stepped into another universe. A universe that she carried inside her, invisible to anyone who only saw her mop and cleaning cloths.
And for the first time, I felt a deep, uncomfortable realization: I had never once wondered who she really was. I had accepted the part she played in my life and never asked about the rest of her story.
Seeing Her With New Eyes
The next morning was one of her cleaning days. When she rang the bell and stepped inside, everything looked the same: the same simple clothes, the same polite greeting, the same quiet presence.
But I was different.
There was a grace to her I had never noticed.
Finally, as she was wiping down the kitchen counter, I took a breath and said, “I came across your paintings online.”
Her hand stopped in mid-motion. Slowly, she straightened up and turned toward me. For a split second, her expression was almost frightened. She looked as if I had discovered something she was supposed to keep hidden.
“I… I’m sorry,” she began softly. “I only post them for friends. I hope it wasn’t a problem that you saw them.”
“A problem?” I said. “They’re beautiful.”
She blinked, and then the tightness in her face softened. A shy, hesitant smile appeared, touching the corners of her mouth.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
