That Afternoon



They chattered for quite a while.

Chatter is the dust that covers separation, isn't it? We knew from the length of their chatter how they’ve missed each other. The excited dust marked an important arrival. They chattered and none of it mattered and it was okay. The universe has cared enough to rearrange itself to bring them together. And the universe cares nothing about chatter.

Time was short. We could hear the clock ticking from their overlapping words. They hadn't met in a while. They weren't going to meet again in while longer. And it was okay. Dust had to be dust. And chatter needed its time to settle.

We saw them becoming wiser and ordered food. Food added weight to flighty minds. They smoothed it with water and soda. Then lit it with coffee and smoke.

That's when we saw brightness in their smiles. We saw how clarity pierced between them. That things have gone well and chatter has settled.

When words fall, gestures rise.

She wiped her mouth and applied her lips with colorless balm. His head tilted, watching her. Of whom did she remind him? Did she know that the universal feminine is embodied in that gesture? What is not feminine about a woman retouching her make-up?

Reawakening, from the contrast, the universal masculine.

He brought his fingers to one side of her face. Pressed and dragged his thumb from one corner of her lip to the other. Still watching her, he rubbed that thumb on his mouth. And he saw a layer of pink spread evenly across her face and stutters.

The most remarkable meetings are the most spontaneous. You don't plan on what you're going to say or do. Meetings like that can get dusty and clattery, but give it a minute. You might understand why, when her gaze dropped and his smile widened, floated between them a lovely puff of pleasure.

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