He was sitting outside a cafe window looking in on a woman sitting stoically, listening to a man explain himself to her from across their table for two.  It started with hands on his lap and face at a tilt, with then an abrupt lean-in.  From outside the window, he could not discern a response from the woman, which is why he thought the man then dropped both elbows on the table, with arms straight up, his face framed between splayed-out fingers, as if he were she answering him.  This seemed to earn him no special points, so he seamlessly eased his body with a jovial comment about a distraction off to his left, and, using that same joviality, continued explaining himself.  He watched her watch the man bring to the surface, with great ease, different sides of him, to reframe, as necessary, his explanation.  She closed her eyes a time or two, but otherwise stayed statuesque, till, at a point, her shoulders dropped a bit, her back relaxed, her hands separated.  Something had clearly changed: when the man next stretched over the table and said something to her through cupped hands, she leaned in to listen.  From his perspective outside the window, two faces were closing in on each other not because of what a mouth had to say or an ear hear, but, more, to make possible an "accidental," "unintentional" touch, to make possible a return to a re-set position.​