Sadness
She was waiting for me at the Bar. She was dressed in a long, black satin dress that covered most of her body and defined her curve in that most modest of way that I find attractive. She was drinking a virgin Bloody Mary. A sure message to me that she was a woman of taste and moderation. She was not looking my way. She knew that a man should walk up to the girl and he should make the first move. She knew that she had to get me to speak to her and to notice her.
I walked up to her and stood beside her. For the briefest of moments, I said nothing, simply allowing her perfume to slide over me while I was admiring her beautiful smile. She felt my presence and turned around, our eyes met and she suddenly knew what I had known since I entered the restaurant. She knew that I was the one she was waiting for. She was not happy or sad, she was not thrilled of disappointed. She was just relieved. I don’t really know why, but that is the feeling that I read on her face.
Without a word, we turned and walked to our table. Words were not really needed; they had all already been used. Without a word we sat and stared at each other. Without a word we smiled. Without a word our eyes locked. I was starting to wonder if she was a mute.
Then, she said: “Haroun”. She had this delightful accent. The type of accent that you only find in this part of the world. I smiled back and said, “Yep, It’s me”.
We shared a meal, we shared a drink, we shared a few smiles and a few laughs. Suddenly, much too suddenly, it was late. We were the only customers left in the place. We hadn’t said much to each other, we hadn’t shared much. Yet, there were no more words needed. The bill came, it was paid. There was nothing left of the evening. It had come and gone. It was time to leave. It was time to part ways and ponder on what might have been.
I stood up, she remained seated. I smiled, turned and walked out of the restaurant and into the street. I didn’t feel like driving home. I walked. The night was cold. I was lost in my thoughts. I got home without really noticing, I went upstairs without really thinking.
I stepped into the shower and washed away the last traces of her perfume. I went to bed knowing that there is always tomorrow and that there will be another dinner. This time, I will get there first and wait at the bar. I will order a Virgin bloody Mary. Not because I like it, but simply because I want her to know that I noticed.
Tomorrow is another day, Dinner is another adventure, life, still has to be lived
Haroun El Poussah
I walked up to her and stood beside her. For the briefest of moments, I said nothing, simply allowing her perfume to slide over me while I was admiring her beautiful smile. She felt my presence and turned around, our eyes met and she suddenly knew what I had known since I entered the restaurant. She knew that I was the one she was waiting for. She was not happy or sad, she was not thrilled of disappointed. She was just relieved. I don’t really know why, but that is the feeling that I read on her face.
Without a word, we turned and walked to our table. Words were not really needed; they had all already been used. Without a word we sat and stared at each other. Without a word we smiled. Without a word our eyes locked. I was starting to wonder if she was a mute.
Then, she said: “Haroun”. She had this delightful accent. The type of accent that you only find in this part of the world. I smiled back and said, “Yep, It’s me”.
We shared a meal, we shared a drink, we shared a few smiles and a few laughs. Suddenly, much too suddenly, it was late. We were the only customers left in the place. We hadn’t said much to each other, we hadn’t shared much. Yet, there were no more words needed. The bill came, it was paid. There was nothing left of the evening. It had come and gone. It was time to leave. It was time to part ways and ponder on what might have been.
I stood up, she remained seated. I smiled, turned and walked out of the restaurant and into the street. I didn’t feel like driving home. I walked. The night was cold. I was lost in my thoughts. I got home without really noticing, I went upstairs without really thinking.
I stepped into the shower and washed away the last traces of her perfume. I went to bed knowing that there is always tomorrow and that there will be another dinner. This time, I will get there first and wait at the bar. I will order a Virgin bloody Mary. Not because I like it, but simply because I want her to know that I noticed.
Tomorrow is another day, Dinner is another adventure, life, still has to be lived
Haroun El Poussah
posted by Haroun el Poussah at 7:57 PM
8 Comments:
dude.. that's a sad date.. she didn't even walk out with you or anything.. just sat there.. :(
i think you're an amazing writer
Yup. Might give Danielle Steel a run for her money.
... she will then probably one day not very far, walk up to you sitting at that bar and see your drink and smile, grab a seat and pick up where you left.
She sounds like that kind of woman.
Yup. Might give Danielle Steel a run for her money.
Barbara Cartland is also weeping and gnashing her teeth and rolling in her grave.
Why didn't she leave with you? did you exchange numbers?
very well-written and quite romantic.
i agree about Steel and Cartland.
BUT SIMPLY BECUZ I WANT HER TO KNOW THAT I NOTICED! wow !I LIKED THIS LINE THE MOST.IM REAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALY SAD CUZ U STOPPED BLOGING,CUZ THIS IS THE FIRST TIME FO ME HERE .
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