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I met a woman at the Blue Nile.

Our first encounter was her attempting to kiss my face. She seems to be in her mid-late fifties/early sixties. She began to tell me that she is okay, over and over again. She began to cry. She told  me her sun died. He OD'ed at 39 years old. She watched him die, with his head between the toilet and the sink. Her other sun blamed his brother's death on her. She cried some more. I was silent as she drank from my glass of water, continuing to talk, repeating herself several times.

She is still sitting here next to me. She touched my face. I look over. She smiles with intent while I look at her. A seductive glare. Those alcohol infested eyes gazed away near mine.

She knows the song playing. She sings it.

She wants to dance.

LydiaWaterDeathPainTearssecretdancefireshoesclownsbutterfliesopenboxminnesotablue nile

◄ storm chaser

the Bright Side to Each Other's Moon ►


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Thu 26th Jul 2012 14:16

I love the ambivalent ending, leaving us guessing where it goes next, and all the hints. If this is the first encounter, it suggests another. Loved this.

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