TranslatingRitaSophie

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Let’s talk about…

She lit a small chocolate cigar and, sipping some whiskey, she thought it would be nice to write about him.
They had virtually met in a mIRC room and talked for hours. He’d told her he was tall, blue-eyed and shy. She hadn’t told him too much about her, what’s to say, anyway? Oh, yeah, she’d said she liked Mozart. Very funny!
Though, there was something there, like some sort of a chemistry between them, thousands of kilometres long chemistry…
S: ‘How was your day?’
M: ‘Not bad… Saw some turtles in the afternoon. They were having coffee in the middle of the highway. Almost knocked them over… What a place to have coffee at! Or in? These prepositions… Quite a headache, don’t you think?’
She kept silent. Actually, she kept her fingers above the keyboard and her skull was full of words, meaningless ideas, colours and regrets, but she didn’t type anything.
S: ‘Have you asked them their names?’
She had to say something… It was not very polite to keep silent for too long. He might have gone away, idle…
He smiled. Typed a smiley… Like this: 🙂 She smiled too, she could almost see his eyes smiling….
M: ‘Oh, no. They were talking about seagulls. Fascinating topic, if you ask me!’
And he talked about seagulls for hours. She read, and read, and read, the guy was an encyclopaedia!! Or, a very good listener, with a good memory!
Then she went to bed, tired and somehow wiser as far as seagulls are concerned.
The pillow was smelling nice, that conditioner they were advertising was really good!
The book was boring, besides, she could not think of anything else but seagulls. And his eyes she’d never seen.
And then she remembered she was sitting on a bench, in a park, with long and misty alleys. Just sitting there, doing nothing, as if she was waiting for someone, or something to happen, or someone to say something…
And then there was no more bench, and no more park, and no more alleys, just mist, warm and silent mist. So silent she could hear him breathing.
And then, out of nowhere, there he was! In front of her! He stayed so close to her she could feel his warm breathing soothing her cheeks. He smelled of something, could not remember precisely of what, maybe a vague cigarette smoke, maybe some nice perfume, she could not say for sure, but no, it was not the smell that made her warm up as if electrified. He did not touch her, he was just breathing in front of her, very close to her, still, she could not see his eyes…
M: ‘When a woman is telling you she’s sleeping, don’t believe her!’
His words were warm. And sweet. They kissed her lips.
M (whispering): ‘She’s just about to wake up!’
And the alarm clock went on! Louder and louder and she was dragged out of the mist, far away from him…
What a stupid dream!!! She did not even kiss him properly!

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