The lights were dim here this night, like in the last
lifetime. A serenity could be found in this place like in no other, the only
sounds were the flapping of the boat sails over the dock, the only light from
the stars above them and the single blinking light marking the edge of the bay,
absorbed in the darkness of his eyes, reflected by the glitter in his.
They had come here as they always did to let the dawn take
them, to witter it away with the worthless conversation. They both knew that it
was for nothing; she told him where she worked, where she lived, where she had
grown up. He told her about his family, his friends and past lovers. They took
turns to listen with the kind of intent that only exists when something is
truly new, a real first time, and yet to each of them this was a game they knew
only so well. The words felt almost recited, the smiles practiced yet no less
genuine for it.
Under that blinking light, his mind traced that uncanny curl
on the left side of her smile, and with a finger she reached across and
followed a contour in his right thigh, a scar, an unfamiliar one. And then they
kissed, an embrace they'd each waited a lifetime for, the golden kiss that
they'd have wanted for their first kiss, when they were young and free. Yet
nothing stopped them from savouring this kiss like that first kiss all the
same. He was in no rush, and she could think of no better place to be than here
in his arms. He felt her heart beating against his chest, she felt his muscles
tense, one arm in her hair and the other at her waist. Still the light blinked,
counting the moments.
Like every first kiss, there was a second, and a third. To
them, time stood still, a gift in this moment, a gift that would hold with it a
price that could be paid another day, as it was paid every time before it. With
his lips still against hers, she felt his tear glide against her cheek. She had
held hers back until now, and together they cried as the chill crept in on the
sea wind. They shared whispered sentiments, declarations of love that they
truly meant as much on this last first meeting as on the first.
Inevitably this night would end like them all, when there
were no more stories to tell and no more sentiments to share, when there were
no more tears to shed and when they'd laid everything bare. When the light was
no longer dim, and the seagulls broke the serenity. And just as she did last
time, she would stand first. And he would hesitate under that blinking light
that marked the edge of the bay, but still he would follow. And she would
return then to her husband, and he to his wife.
And as always they would both walk away from this night
hoping, praying, maybe in the next
lifetime. Maybe.
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