Saturday, June 06, 2009

I meet Benjamin at a popular blues nightclub after a very unexpected phone call (part 2)

I pause briefly, expecting this moment to remain suspended in time until everything is resolved on its own. I turn my back to the main entrance of the club and to him, but I can still hear the soul of love playing inside. I can still feel its mischief and its melancholy swaying between my shoulders blades and my knees. The warm spring breeze reminds me of lace curtains, flannel pajamas and unfinished books. He is silent. I can’t tell if what I’m hearing is his breathing or the world falling into a deep sleep. Finally, I turn to face my unfinished story. “If we’re going to do this,” I’m trying to gain back some of the control I’ve lost, “you have to tell her.”

There is a pause that is as threatening as an impending nuclear attack. It floats with menace between the two spots we both seem to be rooted to. Neither of us move, not away from each other, not closer to one another. Or maybe we both desperately want to but don’t know in which direction the other will go.

Then, as suddenly as church bells toll, he takes my hand in his and the distance between us is closed for good. “All right,” he says. It was as simple as that and as majestic as the church bells ring-a-ding-dinging to announce a brand new day.

[This may or may not be continued at a later date. For now it feels finished.]

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