Hard Velvet

The skin hung down your bony fingers, making them look big if compared to the re rest of your arm. You shook those hands with me and all I could notice then was my soul creeping from the rest of my body and hanging at my fingertips extending that one second in the time of my senses. For a moment, all that could be heard was that pesky noise as three of us settled ourselves into the chairs. It was just the way I liked it, the restaurant, with the huge walls painted beige and decorated with the life of the 18^h century hanging on them into the frames of drawings not quite capable of restraining them from spreading the feeling of those old times to fly in the air  as we, a young wife who three years ago only saw this place in her dreams, a husband who  owned enough money to pave his street in gold and a bachelor who had no plans in life other than staying as a bachelor.

      We talked. The two of you discussing things I could only understand few words in, still, I attentively heard and smiled quite foolishly every time you made a smart comment. Once, you looked at me and caught me looking at you and the only I thing I could do was looking at my golden watch; it had become a reflex reaction to your eyes, running away from them as they had eerie effects on every beat of my heart. I stole a glance again and your eyes had still maintained their position. Chagrinned, I fidgeted in my seat and tapped with my fingers on the table, then, rushed to the bathroom fighting that intoxicating impulse to look back at you.

   When I came back, a glass of wine was between your hands as you raised them quite eloquently rendering it weightless while suggesting to ask me about a matter you two had disagreed about. Every part of me burnt to know it and abruptly, all the intelligent stuff I managed to read in newspapers while imagining I was discussing them with you jumbled in my mind and then, I could feel cold sweat breaking into my forehead. I never r got  o know the matter. His sarcastic smile that had killed every beautiful thing in my life stretched upon his ugly lips censoring you for asking me, about such a clever thing. He laughed. His laughter was caught up between the atoms of air as every shade of it kept on echoing back and forth. I wanted to silence it. I wanted to fling one of those stained silver forks into his throat. I wanted dig his heart out so that he would never be again. But I stood, helpless. After he  stopped, a tear escaped my eyes. But no glance of you went my way. I went again to the bathroom and looking back, you apparently did not notice my absence. With a heavy heart and light, quick steps, I entered and looked at that shiny reflection of a doll who had sold her soul. I cried. I remembered you and a glimpse of hope lightened within my dim entity to be put off again; you didn’t even notice me in there. I cried even harder. And seeing how that made me cry, like  the whole of my being was only weighted by a move from your eyes, a twitch from your fingers, a word from your tongue, I realized how pathetic I was. But I couldn’t but love you.