silences dance on the waves in front of and in between us.
vanity wraps around her like an expensive perfume.
she flicks the cigarette ash with nonchalance and disdain the same move.
her skin, dark silk glowing in the moonlight.
her skirt flaps as the evening breeze sweeps through. her hair is ruffled now, causing a crinkle of discontent on her forehead. the crinkle vanishes quickly, as if she's just decided that this is her moment, and no silly breeze is going to ruin that.
she begins nodding, as if to a song. she closes her eyes, slipping into a trance. is that a smile? or just a contented curve in the corner of her mouth.
the look of emptiness on her face is supposed to convince me that she is at peace, with herself and the world. but there's something heavy in the air, and it's coming from within us.
her fingers are playing the tune on an imaginary piano. is it the tune of some happy song and time that she remembers now? did it not turn out the way it should have? - because she slowly draws her fingers back into a reluctant fist. she takes a deep breath, and now i am aware that she will begin to speak. she always finds something sharp and smart to say. but at this strange moment, i don't think she will. she exhales, stretching her legs out, her toes just barely touching the water. she looks carefully at the toe-nail she broke earlier, during our grossly misguided trek to the waterside.
she catches my eye, and we exchange an "oh, i
so know what you're gonna ask me now...!" glance. she looks away, into the miles and miles of darkness hanging over the sea.
i hear a humming now, and it takes me a few seconds to realise that she's about to speak. finally.
"so... have you ever been in love?"
