We are occasional visitors - tourists - spending a night in a hotel. I wake up in the morning, go to the door and sneak peek in the corridor. I see you there, suddenly, you are walking so slow. You look into my eyes. I know - it's a signal. I follow you... I am in your room already... You want a kiss.. I bend over you as if to kiss you, but turn you around, and put a scarf over your eyes, kiss your beautiful neck, make you wear jewelry. You sigh, you breathe deeper - I know why...
I remember the day when I saw her for the first time. She entered the drugstore. I was buying some candy for the sore throat. At that moment, she came in. I sensed immediately her perfume - it was "Poison" by Dior. But beyond this smell there was another aroma - her own, the core, attractive, addictive and memorable. For a single instant I was granted the intoxicating, teasing sensation. I was allowed to visit heaven... Then I was bumped down back on earth. "Your change, sir." I let her come to the counter. She ordered some pills against insomnia. I did not leave the drugstore at once, though. Staring at some shampoo tubs on the display I kept spying her with the corner of my eye. She was amazingly elegant. Black hat, black belted coat and high heels. Her hair was hidden under the hat. Her eyes were green like those of a cat. As she stepped outside she left a trail of aroma that hung in the middle of the store. For that moment I realised one thing. If she asked me for anything, I would do it. I would do anything she asked me for. She only had to say. Such was the power that this woman captured over me with her only presence. A question then raised sharply in my mind: "What if?" "What if this relationship could be started?" "What if it could be continued?" I rushed outside... "Excuse me, ma'am, I saw you buying insomnia pills. See, I have been insomniac for a while and I still cannot find good pills. I was wondering if these ones were of any help." "Yes, they are good, especially at the beginning. Then you get used to them, and they are less effective, yet, quite helpful." I think she sensed the hidden intention behind my words. Still, she kept on playing her role observing me with some kind of irony.
So, when was it? Time ran deliciously, then it stopped in ecstasy, then ran again. Exciting time, full of life and meaning. The feeling of time itself was different. Every minute was a pulsing sensation, filled with sweetness and all shapes of beauty. Time was beautiful and beauty was timeless. It was such a fruitful time, that bore new emotions and new experiences, constantly. It was a cocktail of time. It made us drunk. We put our days on a string and counted them, as if to multiply them, and they seemed so multiple, and they appeared to last forever. And every time when we counted a day back, it gained again all its freshness and energy, with full delight, just because of our thoughts about it. Saying goodbye to the moment had never been such a joy. Time was rest, yet full of action. Time was dynamic and delicate at the same time. Time with no effort or tension, when it slowed down, it only meant to bring us a new kind of pleasure. Drop by drop, we drank the nectar of succulent moments, without thinking about the future. Yes, we had the time of our lives. Then future came, as it always does, sombre, sane, prose-like and tasteless. The future became our present and tore us away from ourselves, turning us into witnesses. Strange feeling, when you are not used to it. We joined the audience, we became part of the crowd. We turned into strangers. Time changed its character, too. Time began to escape. It became shadowy, obscure, secretive. It started to be devoured by something gray, impersonal, blind. Time became empty, still, silent, and killing. Before, we used to pass our time, enjoyed every minute. Truly, we had time to spend. Then, we had time to kill, and it began to kill us. We lost the thread of time. And we lost ourselves with no reason at all. It just happened. But who knows, maybe, one day, again, Time
will be our prey, our garden, our abundant ocean to swim in. Maybe, one day, again...
