sexta-feira, 18 de setembro de 2009

She was a doctor from out of town

He recalls the shape of a woman, a dancing shape, moving to the sound of one of his favourite songs, in a way that gave the impression that she was the only one on the dancefloor of that dim-lit hip club he used to go to (a lot could be said on the reasons that took him there every week, but now is neither the time nor the place to do so - this story is not about him).

Night and spirits were both high and so he thought 'why not?' while he kept getting closer and closer, approaching the shape from her back.

'Hey.', he said, and it looked as though they were long time passion driven lovers - they obviously weren't since he had only seen that shape wandering around that place a few times before.

Nevertheless, he felt confident. Come to think about it, he had no reason not to.
She didn't answer back, pretended not to notice that stranger's voice on her left ear and kept on dancing. He did not take it as a tease; after all, in his head she was all alone dancing with herself. But as you will see, she did notice him. That was exactly why she did not answer at first, as she wanted to enjoy that unexpected voice first before reacting.

He stood there, taking a few sips of his whiskey and dancing to a beat he could not care less about (do not get him wrong though, he was into music. However, for those long minutes his mind was not set on the sound echoing from the speakers). By doing so, the shape lost her vagueness, as he was too close to avoid paying attention to a couple of details that immediately caught his eye: her left hand playing with her hair and the way her right arm strechted every now and then to grab the bottom of her t-shirt. All this she did while dancing at the same time, and he started to feel a dizziness one feels when one's being driven crazy.

A short statement about this character: he had a strange yet understandable resistance to "meant to bes", "meant to happens" and whatnots, but he knew he was going to get that girl tonight. And right he was.

Minutes went by until she slowly but firmly turned to him for no particular reason other than out of curiosity for the carrier of that soothing voice. After she did so, the distance between them was hardly longer than a whisper.

'Hey there sweet stranger, I've been watching you. You look familiar, you know, like someone I'm looking for.', she replied back. 'Let's go.', just like that, out of the blue.
"Let's go". He felt his heart racing when he heard this, but on the outside he looked calm. 'Where to?' he asked, trying to keep his cool.
'That's up to you. I already did my share.'
He laughed. 'And what's your name?'
'That depends on how good you are.', she uttered defyingly to his hear. He laughed once more, this time in a more confident way.

Gone they were, coming across a few waltzing John Does among the crowd on their way out. He was ahead holding her hand but he knew she was leading. 'Because I'm letting her.', he thought.

She was leaving next day, she told him. By the end of the night, let's just skip some horizontal details and say he got to know her real name. Or so he believes. He thinks he'll never see her again. She knows she will. That undisputable knowledge came to her as clearly as clear can get the second she realized the sweet stranger was that specific someone she had been looking for (once again, don't misinterpretate this: she was really looking for a guy, she just didn't know how he looked and thus kept on searching, until that night). How the hell did she find out "the" guy was him? I have no idea, but she knew she had found him. And she was right.

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