mouth with turned down corners

The brick-red door to the old house is decorated with swirling wooden ornaments, attached to what would otherwise be a flat wooden door. The structure has been repaired many times, this is visible from inside the house where the door is painted in clear lacquer. Wooden insets, old planking cut off and replaced. Some is careful restoration work.
The structure on the whole is thin and rickety, all the repairs have left their traces.

Outside now, look up and down the morning street. A man on a motor scooter scoots slowly towards the church.  Follow it's jerky passage around the corner at the end of the street, watch it disappear around the corner, leaving only it's noise and a smell of petrol fumes.

A tall young woman is approaching, coming up the street on her right hand footpath. She is wearing blue trousers, her hair is tied back in a ponytail swinging back and forth behind her. Look for a short while, under a second. She has a self assured stride, a bag over her shoulder, looking at her mobile telephone as she walks.
Stop gawking like a mannerless idiot , turn close the door, take another glance at the woman crossing the road. Turn away, walk up the footpath, a neighbour comes out of her house, wish her a good morning. Cross the alley and walk on up to the junction. Hear the footsteps behind, look left then right then left again cross the road.

Look again, she is crossing the road too, behind, but closer now. Walk on, hear the footsteps behind.
She must be going to her car too, it is probably parked in a similar place to the small black car in the Freyung.
Cross the street, go down the little footpath. Look over to the other side of the street, straight into a pair of dark eyes framed in tied-back black hair, a mouth with turned down corners, over a torso wearing a blue shirt
They look away, fast and sudden.
Turn away, go on walking, heart racing.
Press the button on the key.
The little black cars lights flash.
The young woman passes, shoulders as wide as her hips, pony tail swinging, she looks left at the car.
Watch for a second again, she turns, looks back.

Pass her later in the car again, she walking on to whereever she is going to.
She looks up again as the car passes.

A strange encounter, a curious fancy.
The car has to be taken to the repairs place today, so just move on.
But it is nice to think of the young woman, the strange attraction, the imagined communication.
The reality is that the cars brakes are not in order, and that needs checking.
The reality is that the cars glow plugs are broken, and that needs replacing.
The reality is that there will be a nice walk through the waking town later on.