Thursday, August 4, 2016


          The blue tailored suit gave it away. He was surely out of my league. But for some reason his eyes kept meeting mine. The outlandish chills that ran through my arms and legs made me quit the trip. I had to focus on something closer to my uniform. Society wouldn't accept tailored suits and maid uniforms together. The only time they have an acceptable encounter is in the laundry. Therefore, I wasn't about to defy the laws of nature. Kept looking up only when necessary, talking when answering. I played my role just right. For 5 long minutes. That's the longer I could deviate my way from that astonishing smile. Needless to say, the eyes were staring right back at me. I was uneasy. The lips kissed another mouth and I bumped into a wall and broke three wine glasses. Oddly, no one even turned to stare. The noise didn't bother. Lucky me.
          As I picked up the pieces and pulled myself together. The brown shoes came closer. My trembling hands almost dropped the mess. I was waiting for it to go away, but it didn't. The 30 seconds seemed like a life time and I wasn't ready to die yet. And for a closer look of the mirage I've been seen during the whole night, I became a casualty of his chains. His hand reached me before I could react. And there I was, a prisioner of possibilities, waiting for my moment to be free. Or was I? The cold chains felt good in my skin. The grip made me feel quiet and nursed. Speechless statue before mystic god. No words were required from his. With a nod I left. Fast enough to recover my breathe, but not enough to unwind.
          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".

No comments:

Post a Comment