Windchimes

March 1, 2004

Morning Tryst

Filed under: Doodles, Blabs and Rants, Published, Short Stories — didee @ 9:00 am

You sit inside the room with your back facing the door. He walks inside and you just knew it’s him. Maybe you’ve unconsciously memorized the sound of his footsteps. Maybe you have been attuned to his presence that its absence feels like a lingering void only to be filled by his being there. Or maybe it was just your heart seeing and feeling things that are not really there. And then you feel his hands on your shoulders. Yes, indeed it’s him. You looked up and see the face of the man you acceptably call your friend.

He runs his hands down your hair, falling on your shoulders, resting there, mimicking something like a massage. Your mind starts to wander, a millisecond of heaven. You placed your hand over his, a fraction of a second, a tap, so fast it almost didn’t happened. You feel the hand of the man you’ve decidedly call your friend.

He moves from your back and leans on the desk in front of you, facing you. You could have sworn you saw a different light in his eyes, but then again maybe it was just your heart playing tricks on you. Your own pathetic desire performing yet another act of illusion. You look at the eyes of the man you’ve categorically call your friend.

He comments on your hair. Your braids. Uttered something about your white top which coincidentally matches his white shirt. He picked up your precious moments table calendar whose existence you were not aware of until now, flipping through it month after month, smiling at the chubby little girlets and boylets. He even took noticed of your princess’ gift-tag-turned-bookmark you bought a year ago. Nobody said anything about it, not until now. Was that a compliment you heard him say? Something which smells nice? Was it your hair he was referring to? Was it about your favorite cologne you’ve been using for quite sometime now? Was that a compliment you just let pass? You felt warmth in your heart as you listen to him talk. You listen to the man you chose to call your friend.

This is his morning greeting to you. Your early rendezvous, which you’ve come to look forward to everyday. You’ve learned to treasure it a lot that it almost feels like sin to freely experience it like this. This and among other things which you’ve kept inside. Your own private collection of moments which you’ve gather together with half-closed eyes. Half fearing that the early morning tryst would turn out to be an extension of the dream you’ve had the night before. Half-hoping that everything is as real as it seems.

And finally, after a moment, you’ve said your goodbye’s to each other. You ended the morning meeting with a hearty “good morning” and a smile to bid each other’s day good luck. He goes his way and you go yours. A secret smile slowly playing on your lips and your heart looks back to the man you call your friend wishing that the same smile is also reflected in his.

Alas! Another day has begun.

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