• Instead of writing, his pencil sketched a female figure in his notebook. ‘I wonder what I’m thinking of today?’ He needlessly asked his poorly done nude drawing. Then he saw her.

    Love at first sight is a trite phrase that doesn’t even begin to describe the exquisite passion occurring in a fluttering of an eyelid. ‘She was an exotic vision of femininity surpassing my notebook drawing, as the Mona Lisa outshines a kindergarten stick drawing in finger-paint.’

    ‘Her eyes are liquid brown,’ he noted dreamily, ‘as a lacquered walnut bar top lit by flashing nightclub strobes. Shimmering ribbons of dark brunette hair, race in tantalizing slow motion, like torrents of chocolate running over rocks and my fingers yearn to be canoes, shooting the rapids of her tresses.’

    She looked at him but didn’t speak. She didn’t need to because her expression asked the question – ‘what do you want?’ Since she was also a proprietor of a coffee kiosk, her setting behind the counter similarly supplied the query.

    ‘I want you.’ His mind answered. ‘I want to see what you look like in the pale moonlight and to have my tongue savoring the minty taste of your toothpaste as it explores your teeth.’

    “Coffee.” He managed to voice.

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