Sunday, September 6

¡Dios mío!

‘ASK HER,’ SAID he. For some reason, I had assumed that she would not be going out that evening for the drink I so wished to share with. I daren’t ask for fear of that disruptive—‘No.’
When she walked into the bar, I smiled and the smile caught the side of her face so that she turned into it and I nodded her hello. Nod hello like you are someone cool, like someone knowing what they are doing. She was stood behind a body, so I moved the body aside so that she might enter and for me to see her better. I stared. I am one who stares at beauty as often as I can, saying—‘¡Dios mío!’ and rolling my eyes in submission.
No nerves fluttered in me as I went to talk to her; no, not a twitch; not a doubt of whether I was doing the right thing, or even making a fool of myself. Her accent! o, her accent! I could have listened to that song all night. Her pale Spanish eyes. Deeply they took me in. I did not shy away; why would I? We spoke, she & I, inches from each other’s faces. I was not self-conscious, nor did I concern myself with what she thought of my acne scars, but reveled in every moment we talked. I enquired, trying to learn as much as I could about her. Every time she touched me I was electrified; shuddering as though it was all I came for. Our noses almost touched when we talked. I was all too happy to be there. I made her laugh, when she scrunches up her nose, leans her head back, mouth open; so wonderful so I make her laugh again and again.
She left, saying good-bye. I watched her walk, her timid frame between the tall buildings and out down the alley. For a moment, I pondered; then—‘Hold this,’ says I to my friend, handing him my pint and taking off down the alley after her. I did not think of what I was going to say, or how she would react, or how I would conduct myself, but nonetheless I chased after her, emboldened by drink & lust.
Where had she gone? I could not see her in the street. Where had she gone? I looked left & right, and then I looked all around, but she was nowhere to be seen. I ran into the middle of the road so that I might get a better view of the pavements all around me, but, no, she was nowhere to be seen; just the evening sunshine out of grey skies blooming over the leisurely city. It had not been my opportunity to seize, that much was clear. Still, smiling, I returned to my friend and the pint he held for me.

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