Friday, June 15, 2018

The Slight Smile

Fall of 1981 (Paris, France). It was raining outside and she was sitting there in front of that painting, staring at it like if she expected it to return that faint smile. She leaned her body forward and rested her hand on her chin while she touched the long sleeves of her dress with the other. She seemed hypnotized by the painting that hung in front of her. Her hand slid down the buttons of her neckline and she frowned. "I've lost one," she thought. Then she remembered that she had another one in the motel room and she kept looking at that smile.

1980s blue night dress.
She had moved a few months ago to the other side of the sea to start over, since her small village had nothing to offer her. She traveled light, the most precious thing was that blue night dress she was wearing. She had seen it in Marks & Spencer and could not resist those prints on the fabric of the dress, they were like little tears that seemed to call her. So there she was, waiting. She did not know how much time had passed since she came in that room full of paintings, but it seemed endless and he did not show up. She hoped he had not gotten confused about the day or the time. Sometimes those things could happen. Sometimes. She smoothed the skirt of her dress slowly and her niveous fingers adjusted the belt slightly, emphasised her thin waist. She was starting to get nervous, she did not even look at that smile anymore. "Is not he going to show up?" She asked herself blushing. Her fingernails painted red touched lightly the pleated of the dress and brushed her breast. She pushed it up to show her knees and crossed her legs. Sighed.

She looked back at that mysterious smile for a second and turned her head towards the room like looking for something or someone. Tired of sitting, she got up strongly and she started circling around. Her heels made noise against the floor and that sound seemed to multiply in that place. There was no one else there, and if there was, she did not care. She stopped in front of a glass showcase and saw her reflection, and saw her dress that fit elegantly on her body. There she was contemplating her image for a while. She felt anger. He was not going to show up. I was sure of it. She went to the upholstered bench, picked up her purse and walked to the door. Her dress of little tears moved to the beat of her disappointment. And she never saw that smile again.



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