If we shared a coffee date, a stroll in the park, or a simple chat--chances are, you've encountered bits of silence with me.

It may not happen often--especially when you talk and I talk back--but it does happen every so often--more so when I'm alone. On those occasions when you speak to me and I merely respond with a grunt, nod, or "mhm," I promise you that I am not displeased with our conversations. For that brief moment, through my eyes, I'm seeing something else.

Through these eyes of mine, I no longer see the world around us. Instead, I see something akin to a film reel, windows that give me images, sounds, and feelings coming from a different world entirely--a constant flicker between fiction and reality.

And through these flickers, I see people I've never met before, yet they seem familiar--like a person, I've known all my life but never bothered to ask about their life story. In this fictional reality, I either watch them through a bird's eye view, from a corner of the room or, sometimes, I'm watching the world through their eyes. I'm unseen, of course, yet I am privileged an intimate view of their lives.

Fiction isn't all I see through these eyes of mine. When the film reel isn't appearing before my eyes, I sometimes look at the world through a different lens. When I'm watching a movie, or seeing a dog prance across the grass, or watching a private interaction on a bus ride when I know I shouldn't be, I wonder how it all translates to words on a page. I sometimes see imaginary hands type on an imaginary keyboard, and I read an impromptu transcription of what just transpired in my proximity.

Sometimes, when I look at a person, fragments of phrases appear in my mind that define who they are--the culmination of their character. What does this person want more than anything? Why? Is their pursuit a success or an uphill battle?

Then I think about the details that describe this person. Every mannerism they have, their tone of speech, what they wear and how they wear it, etc..

After those few seconds have passed, I return to reality--this reality. My focus returns to what's before me, the task at hand or the person I have the pleasure of spending time with.

Of course, I keep these flickers and moments of deep thought to myself. Admittedly, I'm a little shy of sharing this because I'm afraid people may think it's rude of me that my attention is elsewhere instead of on them. But whenever I temporarily disappear into these moments and come back, I'm all the more excited to escape to the nearest pen and paper and replay that film reel once more, but this time a little more slowly so I may enjoy it more.