Fascinated by her small fingers moving on the glass window, he watched as she considered the various condiments on the shelves with intense concentration; interest piqued. Her eyes wandered over several of the delicacies, only resting on the few which caught her fancy; moving with a powerful speed which mounted to a look almost suggestive, misleadingly, of disinterest.
She surveyed first the sweets; ravishing immaterially over apple crumble, cheesecake, and frosted cookies with tiny silver balls, among more. Her mouth remained closed, but he could see that it was taking all her willpower and more to restrain it from opening, if only to let her tongue feel the warm air and bestow upon it the dear, albeit cruel gift of a scent; the taste would not follow.
Slowly she allowed herself to proceed with her silent survey; the savoury section was next. She adored the shelves of pie, cheese muffin and wood-burned pizza with avid sensory detail; stopping almost never and if so, only for a one hundredth of a second to imagine the concealed dream of her lips consorting with the item.
Finally, she broke from the folds of her warm dreams with the air of one who had attained some description of spiritual experience, only to witness the sorry sight of half a quarter lying between the folds of her tattered purse.
A deep-rooted sorrow convoluted her persona as she walked from the shop.