It was a simple plan. There was nothing extraordinary about it. It wasn't meant to be either.
So she reached his place at 6'o clock, a little blank and a little filled with anticipation. Her plain sky blue dress brushed against her knees. She tugged at her dark chocolate coloured belt before she pressed her fingers upon the doorbell. There was something very simple yet rich about her attire. Though her hair, as always, lay scattered in random curls, wildly over her shoulders.
This was the first time she was going over to his house. Until that day, she had only imagined him walking past a couch, a pillar, a kitchen counter, while he spoke to her over the phone. Then, in just about ten seconds, her train of thought found a completely new track. She was in his house. His house. So unlike how she had imagined. It wasn't that amorphous space that she had always thought it to be. Or was it just her thoughts that were amorphous? This house, his house was more of a place that she as a little girl had always wanted to be in. There were beautiful paintings over the walls. Photographs, not brilliant, just honest, hung along with them. A splatter of colours, and warm ones that too, built up the mood of the place. Plants with big blossoms and plants green faced sat here and there. She was too shocked, yes shocked, to even notice his smile.
His house smelt of lavender blossoms and freshly squeezed grapefruit juice. Ah! She loved it.
She never realized when she let a concealed smile slip away. She looked almost childlike, when he caught her twitch her lips. She felt airy, ethereal almost, in that house. He was talking to her. She had no idea what he was saying. Then she suddenly shifted gears and went afloat to Vatican with him. Oh! That's what he was talking about. How lovely his world was. How beautiful she felt there. She stood up on her toes, with her hands behind her back and looked around from side to side like a curious little child. Then he took her to that side, from where one could see the entire world. But she didn't care what lay on the other side of the glass wall. Her gaze had settled elsewhere. She couldn't believe what she saw there. It was a Gustav Klimt. Der Kuss or The Kiss, her favourite painting of all times, hung large and lovely over the wall. She couldn't believe she never mentioned, never spoke about her favourite and yet they thought in one breath.
They sat there on the couch, right before Der Kuss, drinking all that vodka and grapefruit juice. She was sipping carefully and consciously, as he kept talking to her. She had downed seven drinks, each with equal precision and care. She was always scared of things getting stuck in her throat and this time she was sure there was a chance. Seven down and the eighth drained to the last drop, she found it hard to hold her ground. No there was nothing there for her to fear. Nothing got stuck in her throat. There was nothing in the glass. Nothing at all. She no longer felt airy or ethereal. Just numb and truly blank.
Before she knew they were on the mahogany table, dancing with her shoes kicked off.
Then there was just music. Of what? She never knew. Hands on hands, skin on skin, breath entangled, perfume infused timeless time. It felt like another universe, yet another track for her train of thought. And then when she felt the axis tilting, the sky rotating and the moment penetrating into her soul, it all came to a sudden standstill. She was BLANK. Tabula Rasa, as Locke would put it.
She woke up breathing heavily. She almost jolted out of it. She was in a silent room curled up against a floral sheet. She walked over to the Der Kuss wall. Thank God, it was still there. Just expressionless she felt, like a corpse hanging off a nail. There were no empty vodka glasses, no perfume of lavender and grapefruit. There was nothing and no one around. Where was he? She thought. Lost and searching, she looked behind every door. Engulfed in nothingness, teary eyed, she stood before the mahogany table. Yes, there it is. Her footprints from last night. A sense of familiarity filled her up when she frantically searched for another pair. Footprints there were, footprints of just her. There was nothing. There was no one. Only emptiness in every corner of her heart. And then suddenly she felt something. Something stuck in her throat.
