Someone is walking the narrow street while
lighting a cigarette to burn some life out of the troubled heart. You can see
a short dress with some high heels marking her steps as she gets out of the
dark alley. She finds a table outside of
the French bistro and sits while the burning continue and her lungs recent it
without hurting. She waits.
More burn comes in and some more comes out.
She´s still waiting. Legs crossed now decides to redo her red lips and savors
some great past memoirs that makes her mouth watery, she remembered once more
and smiles. She keeps waiting. Red lust on her lips and she waits.
The dress lets us see her path and also her back
with the little trails of a butterfly kissing her skin. She waits. The smoke of
the third cigarette is done and her fingers caress the next one. She´s
peculiar, not tall but with such a presence, not the prettiest but with such
captivating eyes, not the thinnest but with the right curves for certain preferences.
I can´t say she´s beautiful but almost perfect for some. But she still waits.
It seemed
like shewas getting impatience so she grabs the phone and drops it immediately
as if she remembers that she can´t neither call nor demand. She has to wait.
I can see her face completely now, the lights
are finally touching her eyes and I see someone worried, as if she´s afraid that
she would have to wait forever. I wonder if he knows that’s she´s waiting, I
wonder if he understands why she does it.
A car slowly drives across the bistro and the
front lights won´t let me see who´s coming out but, as I see her standing up
and turning off the cigarette I can see who she´s being waiting for.
She´s no longer waiting. After seeing her grin I
couldn´t avoid smiling widely. She would wait for him for as long as it takes
no matter time, lands nor obstacles. She would wait, the cigarettes and the
memories would keep her company while he´s gone.
Salomée
