Wednesday, March 12, 2008

One Fall Afternoon

Update: I'm no longer using the "Continue reading..." links since Blogger allows me to flag the whole blog as adults-only. June 3, 2008

Update: Reuploaded the third image in this series, which I didn't know had a broken link. March 12, 2008.

I guess if you were to ask me what my ideal date would be, it wouldn't be very far from this. A walk in Central Park on a crisp fall afternoon. We approach a lake and I playfully suggest she take me on a boat ride. She paddles us out to the middle of the lake, where she grins and hauls in the paddles, and we proceed to drift. We share stories and laugh, we talk about our mutual friends, the ones that set us up on this date. In a lull, she takes my hands. They feel so small in hers. She leans in and gazes at me with clear blue eyes of hers and I feel my breath slow and stop and I'm at a loss for words. She darts in quickly for a kiss, and, as our lips part, she smiles at me, her eyes twinkling, and I sit there, mouth slightly agape, and she leans in again for a longer, deeper kiss. The only sound is the lapping of ripples against the sides of our boat.

We stop for a warm cup of tea in a café somewhere, a quiet out-of-the-way place away from the big-city hustle-and-bustle. We walk some more, we window shop, we visit an art exhibit. I tell her I'm tired and so we lie down on a bed of autumn leaves. I press my small body against hers and her long arm encircles me. Our fingers touch lightly. She sings quietly to me, a popular ballad, but jokingly, and we laugh. I like the way her laughter hums on my body.

She walks me home in the early evening light, my hand in hers. Our plans didn't include dinner, she has someplace else to be. I start to feel slightly jealous. It's silly I know, on a first date, but I can't help it. We stop outside the door to my small apartment, she leans over to kiss me, as I stammer an invitation for her to come upstairs. I feel unsure, a little shocked at myself. I'm really not that kind of boy. She grins and picks me up lightly in her arms. I barely remember her carrying me inside.


Later, I lie on my bed, watching her, as she pulls on her jeans. "Call me?" I ask her. "Sorry I can't stay longer," she smiles. She easily straddles my small bed between her long legs, leans over, takes my face in one hand, and kisses me deeply. Then I hear her heavy footfalls cross my one-room apartment and the door open and shut, followed by the thuds of a woman's step as she strides down the landing. Exhausted, still breathless from the force of her last kiss, I fall asleep.

5 comments:

  1. Trinket, I know I have said this before, but you are definitely the master when it comes to interaction.

    These two collages grasp my attention and affection on a whole new level.

    They look so natural, and the concept of the image surroundings are so unique.

    Anyone can place a woman behind a cityscape, but to even come close to what you do, would surely be a feat.

    Bravo!

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  2. Hi Cricket, thanks for your compliments! It was great to run into your page and seeing your new collages after a few months away from the scene.

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  3. Wow, what was really nice. I liked this romantic side of role reversal. I have found role reversal situations usually go toward violence. But not all guys are jerks so why would all the girls be jerks in your world?

    Any way, very nice work. I think I'm going to book mark your blog.

    ~Disthron

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  4. Disthron! Nice to hear from you. I like a mixture of romantic and slightly edgier scenarios, although I shy away from scenes of violence. Thanks for dropping by and the bookmark.

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  5. She will have someone else either a husband or boyfreind.His hope must be that she can visit him at lunchtimes wehn she set him up in a flat near her work.It doesn't mean she doesn't love him only that he is one of several.

    Femsup

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