Mist (part 1)

A fight! I thought there were no fights here. Apparently, I was wrong. A few of them drunk men started yelling and pushing and before I even noticed, things went wrong and they started fighting. A fight, and she stood right next to it. She, a young girl, but not a child, long and absolutely different from the women of my age. They are so vast and focused on having babies and a house and everything. They are nothing like that girl here anymore, they are too human. They have nothing of this mysterious looks anymore. Nothing of this eyes and attitude and all these things that make her so beautiful. She is the most elegant woman present here, and she has this look in her eyes as if she knows what we’re thinking.
It’s not the first time she’s here. I’ve seen her several times already, and every time I do, she seems to look better, she seems to move more elegant and she seems to look at me as if I’m worth it.
Like I’m not too old for her! Like I deserve to know a girl like her. She’s simply too young and too mysterious to talk to. Unless there’s a good reason of course. Suddenly, one of the men fighting steps backwards, unstable due to alcohol. She hasn’t seen him coming, he pushes her back and she falls. Bad thing. Good part: she falls straight in my arms as I jumped forward to rescue her from a violent death.

Now, she should turn her head, she should see me and she should smile shyly. Then, she should murmur ‘thank you’ before rising and saying ‘thank you’ more firmly.
We’d live happily ever after.

Reality turns out to be slightly different. She falls into my arms, yes, and I feel her fragility and I almost sigh due to the feeling. She rises immediately, with her hand still on my shoulder, and says ‘thank you’ firmly right away. Then, her hand no longer on my shoulder, and a bit shyer, another ‘thank you’. Her eyes look everywhere, except in mine. Don’t turn around to join your friends again. Don’t walk away at all. Stay here. Talk.

“You’re lucky to have a guardian angel”, I say.
“I am.” She smiles. She doesn’t want to walk away either.
“I even have a phone number for emergencies, if you need it.” I am too bold. I should not say these things. What else could I do though, when standing in front of her fascinating beauty.
“Actually, I live a pretty safe life”, she says.
“Oh well, guardian angels can pay drinks as well, if you do have a thirsty life”, I dare to say. If she now walks away, I’ll never talk to her again. If she doesn’t accept the offer, I will let her live her life and I’ll go rotting in my own corner like old men should do.
“Well, I would like a drink”, she says.

I pay her a beer. We sit together and talk. Innocently, from the outside. I could have been someone her parents know. But I’m not a grandfather. And she’s not a child. I’m gentle and don’t do anything but talking to her. And she does nothing to attract me. It’s just chatting but we both seem to know that ‘chatting’ is not the appropriate word. She’s clever. She has to know what I’m up to (though I won’t harm her, how should I?). The impossibility of fathoming her. Very much like mist she talks and tells nothing.

Could I have foreseen that this talking would be the beginning of destruction? Or what should I call it? The ache of desire and even worse, the ache of seeing it slipping away.

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  1. That’s pretty good! I am intrigued and want to know what happens next.

    • Thanks, Michael. What an honour if you like it- compliments from a great writer!
      I guess there’ll be sequels. Just don’t know when… or even what will happen exactly.

  2. Hmmm…. Very intriguing. Not sure I trust that man. He seems like he could be a creep? not sure. Ha! Good thing I’m so trusting!

  3. The line “I am too bold” grabs and holds me.

  4. Great beginning!


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