He sits among them, he smiles at their jokes and nods in cordial response to their kindness. Some are enjoying exotic cocktails; others are dancing to the music; a pleasant atmosphere.
He gets the usual urge to be alone; he gets up and walks past them to an overlooking place behind a corner on the right-hand side of the terrace where the party was held. He leans his back against the wall. The sky is ready for the sun to set. He lets his back slide down along the wall until his buttocks touch the ground, his back straight against the wall.
He spreads out his arms and rests them by the elbows on his knees in front of him, his hands one holding the other. His jaw is shut and his teeth bite tightly against each other. All air is sucked out of his mouth, and all the sweetness of the drink replaced by that awful flavor of his own tongue mixed with saliva and traces of food. His eyes squint to protect against the horizontal sunlight, but also to contribute, with the bite, to absorbing some of the tension inside.
Hills, trees and houses slowly change color and shade as the sky plays its virtuoso masterpieces, and the melancholy of their melodies molds his emotions into a lump that sits in his throat. He remains in his stance for a while.
Footsteps slowly emerge in a steady sound that contrasts with the chaos of the dancers; over the music they gradually grow louder seeking him out until they make their halt just at the corner where he is sitting. He slowly turns his head from the marvels of the sky to the mysterious feet beside him, then gradually upwards and squints his eyes again, this time to protect against a deeply penetrating gaze.
Her face is serious, but with a gentleness and a faint compassionate smile that makes the lump in his throat throb once or twice. She walks around the corner and across to his other side, and crouches beside him imitating his position, all the while continuing to gaze into his vulnerable but defensive eyes. He can no longer bear her gaze and returns to observe the sky. She does also.
A few minutes pass as they, isolated from the crowd, sit and watch the sunset. In a quiet voice, choking on the lump in his throat and unable to fight against the tears in his eyes, two of which roll from the outer side of each eye and along his cheeks making lines that shine in the dimming light, he finally says “you know…if you come with me…I will go with you” He turns his head, and with a novel intensity, his gaze into her now tearful eyes. She takes a deep audible breath as she runs her right hand along his arm and into his right hand. Tightening his grip on hers, he helps her to her feet, not breaking the gaze.
Silhouetted against the sunless sky they return hand in hand from around the corner and back into the dancing…and dance the night away.
No comments:
Post a Comment