She
She was perfect. She was everything I wanted and needed. She was beautiful just the way beautiful should be, simple pure and quiet.
She is not looking at me, her eyes look outside the balcony far away into the night. The view is beautiful, as she is. The city lights are like a magic carpet unrolling to the horizon. She is real now. She’s not the same woman I opened the hotel room door an hour ago.
Just an hour ago she was playing a role. She was playing it for me. she plays it from the moment I called the number and ask her to come over. I just told her my room number and the hotel name, and that was enough for her. I didn’t need to explain why or how.
She smiled when I opened the door, are you the one who called me? she asked me with a mischievous smile. Yes, I answered, looking at her, she was so alluring, appealing. She went straight to the bed removing her beautiful white dress. We got only an hour she said, do you want to start?
That was an hour ago. But she didn’t leave. Can I stay for a little bit longer? She asked me. confused I answered, yes. We didn’t talk any more. From that point only silence, a beautiful conversation without sound. She walked out to the balcony wearing back the white dress. Without moving her eyes from that point on the horizon she picked a cigarette from my offering hand, that point between the colorful lights and the dark sky is where her eyes were fixed.
There is no need to talk. There is no point or sense in that. We both got a long story to tell. We can use sound and words to explain the how, to regret about the if, and to cry about the why. The air will fill up with the right words that cannot resolve a thing. My sorrow melody will merge with her painful music and it all become a noise. As much as I want I will not be able to listen to her words. I will try to make my story more painful then hers, more convincing. And she will do the same. We don’t want that, we choose silence. Embracing the speechless conversation. She hears the story about my broken marriage without me saying a thing. I agree with every word that doesn’t coming out from her mouth. We both sob on each other shoulder with no sound.
It’s time for me to go she said.
A little bit more? I asked.
Next week the same time? She asked back. Yes, I said.
My wife is looking at me. It’s been a year since I came back home, to my wife my home. I came back home complete empty from anger or pain.
Do you miss her? My wife asked me. yes, I replay, sometimes.
I can also be quiet, my wife answer with a smile, and she put on the white dress.
She is beautiful just the way beautiful should be, simple pure and quiet.
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I enjoyed reading your story! I loved the symbolism you created with the white dress. I also love the repetition of “she” throughout your piece. It creates a nice title as well.
My only suggestion is to work on your dialogue structure. Specially in the last few lines of your piece. You are missing ” “.
Other than that, it was a nice piece!
Thank you for your comment and support.
I will definitely will work to improve my dialogue.