She met a handsome man on a boat in London.
It was a stormy day in late November, and heavy rain alternated with beams of glorious sunshine. When she soared high over the River Thames in a cable car, a rainbow appeared.
"How very auspicious", she thought.
Back in her floating hotel she dressed up for him. She chose the right lingerie. She chose the right dress. She painted her lips and her fingers. And because feeling his bodily existence coming closer made her tremble, she spilled dark red nail polish over her white sheets.
It looked like blood.
"Like in the tale of Snow White", she thought.
"I'm running late", he wrote.
"That gives me time to breathe", she answered.
"I'm here", he wrote, and she took the elevator down to the hotel hall.
Then their bodies met in the space their minds had created long before; perhaps even longer than they both were aware of.
"You are reading me", he whispered when her fingertips traced his costal arch and delicately explored the soft hair on his chest in the twilight of the hotel room.
He shuddered. "I didn't know this story was written until you cared to read", he said. "You are turning my pages."
In the morning light he discovered the red spot on the white sheet.
"It's nail polish", she explained. "You made me tremble in advance."
Her heart still trembled after he had left.
When she came back later that day, the hotel staff had changed the linen and the red spot was gone.
Just like his fragrance.
Photo by Emilio Garcia on Unsplash
