The kitchen felt like escape. The excuses came consecutively. I was strong-willed, if only he didn't find me. If only his aura didn't follow my each and every step. The pull of the knot was starting to bother. That's when he, himself, found me. Not only his aura, not only the trap, him. The eternety of the stare turned my soul younger in spite of the natural course of time. My little inside devil was screaming for that secondhand kiss. However, my professionalism limited my mouth to words. The shyest "how can I help you?" I could pull. Just like in a dream, my wishes were honoured. The gentle hand touched my cheek. The aroma filled my lungs, expelled the oxygen. A dizziness shook me away from heaven and hit me right to the floor.
Waking up soon made me question my foundations. The strength I thought I had betrayed me upon necessity. The so called dream lasted as long as it should. Not a single trace of the blue after the fall. No brown shoes, no secondhand kiss, no defying laws of society. Poor me, the black dress and white apron. Poor me, the "just a dreamer".