Untitled: 1
Monday, July 16, 2012 at 12:46AM Moments before catching the slightest glimpse of his frame, I know he is there. Something in the room has suddenly changed. The electricity maybe. The color most definitely. The entire scene becomes grainy and then crystallizes into a sharp focus. I scan the room, furtively, trying not to show the panic that is rising. Knowing he is there somewhere, but somehow still invisible to me. I can feel him.
The people I am with see my mood change. It isn't difficult, I have gone silent and pale mid-sentence. Unaware of what had silently transpired, worried looks cross the table. "Are you feeling okay?" No. I excuse myself to the restroom, but head for the door. When in doubt, choose flight. Always flight.
As I round the mahogany bar, swarming with beautifully dressed thirty-somethings and a few old drunks, that too familiar set of his jaw and shoulders stops me cold. His back is to me. But there is no mistaking it is him. I attempt to disappear into the crowd. It is too late. He has felt me too.
Reader Comments (3)
Love it. And dread that moment.
Love it. And dread that moment.
Love it. And dread that moment.