Fiction · Just stories

Lady in red…

“Wait for me at the bar”, he had told her… “I should join you around midnight, maybe a little earlier?”

Now, he wondered if it was a good idea… He could always say he had mixed up the dates, or that he had a last minute incident that had kept him from joining her. Trip to the hospital maybe? Women easily felt sorry for injured men… But he felt bad at the idea of standing her up.

Walking in the evening’s mists, he slowed his pace, to give himself a little extra time. He was dressed for the occasion, but not overdressed. He wanted to look cool, in his own way…

Cool… Since when did he aspire to be “cool”? He knew exactly when… But he blurred many souvenirs to keep a cold head in those unusual circumstances. Of course, it was since she had swayed her way in his life.

When he turned around the corner, he noticed the bar’s sign and he felt a strong twitch in his chest, realizing he had put himself in trouble. He could either get in, and probably make the best mistake ever, or stay out and never know exactly how things would have gone…

He had stopped by the first window. Slightly leaning against the glass pane, he stretched a bit to see if she was there… Of course she was. She couldn’t have stood him up, making things easy and simple again! He then could have turned around, and walked home, disappointed, and blaming her for the bad twist of events…

But there she was, sitting on the last bar stool, at the end of the dark wooden counter. She was sipping on some drink, chatting with the barman, throwing her head back every now and then, laughing heartedly…

He reached for his pack of cigarettes, thinking a good smoke would give him the much needed delay to decide what to do. After lighting it nervously, he turned back to watching her… He wished he could be mistaking her with another woman, but it was impossible. All the other women in the darkened room wore black or otherwise sombre colors. She just popped out in her rich fiery red dress.

Again, his fault… He had asked her to wear that flatering dress, and now he had to suffer from his own cockiness. He couldn’t really see the dress from his point of view, but the sight of her bare back, was just as troubling…

The paleness of her skin complemented the scarlet fabric, and her black curls danced on her shoulders, to the rythm of her giggles… He was a tad jealous, for he should have been the source of those giggles… And he knew he would be, if only he entered the room. He knew exactly how her face would brighten up, he knew exactly what her smile would look like, and how she’d look at him, carefully keeping at arm’s length.

And what for? What would happen if they broke the unwriten rule… What if he moved one inch closer, or two for that matter? What if he chanced to put his hand on the chair back pannel? Would she let him get close enough to catch the smell of her perfume?

Oh, the scent of a woman… “Good movie!” he thought for himself. Maybe he could surprise her and drag her to the dance floor, and lead her in an intense tango, à la Pacino! Maybe, maybe… So many maybes…

  • Damn!!

Maybeing away, he had forgotten about his smoke, and had burnt the tip of his fingers, dropping the butt on the sidewalk… Damn!

Looking up again, his heart skipped a beat. The red dress and the delicate creature wearing it had disappeared! He wondered if he was disappointed or relieved… Giving a quick look at his wrist, he noticed it was well passed half passed midnight, no wonder she had left the building!

“Good for you, my darling” he thought, still blowing on his fingers… “That’s what happens when you play with fire… You just get burnt! And it hurts…” Now, he could turn around, and go back home. Oh, he would probably spend night after night in his basement, writing songs for her that he’d sing to himself, but her anger would keep them apart, and it was all for the better… Probably.

Just as he was about to take off, the red silhouette re-entered the room. The bathroom… Of course… Walking from the bathroom, he could now see her face as she walked back to her stool. She was glowing among the other clients of the bar. He had never seen her all made up like that.

They had met a few times in a park nearby. Him walking his dog, and her always sitting at the same bench, feeding the ducks on the lake’s shore. He long had wondered if she waited for him, or if she was just that dedicated to her feathery friends…

It was a first, to see her lips painted red, and her smokey eyes like that…  And he followed her, all the way, back to the bar, where she turned her back to him again. His eyes dropped to the floor. Staring at the tip of his shoes, he wondered… What now? What…

A vibration in his right pocket… Picking up his phone, he nervously turned it on to read the text message he had just received.

Good evening… I am here, where are you? 😉 xx

Where was he? And where was he going to go…?

 

Also available;  https://cyranny.wordpress.com/2016/09/04/lady-in-red-2/

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