Saturday, June 7, 2014

The Encounter

The beat of the music is so loud that I can feel my teeth vibrating as I move onto the dance floor with my friends.  It’s our monthly ladies’ night out and we’re on fire tonight.  The sexy heels on our feet, the short skirts and all of the primping that went into preparing leave us feeling smokin’ hot and ready for anything. 

As always, we started out this night at one of the city’s fashionable restaurants for cocktails and dinner.  The food there is top-notch but nobody really goes there for the food; it’s THE place to “be seen”.  We soaked in the attention as we fuelled ourselves up for a night of dancing.  Now, fuelled by martinis, good food and the appreciative glances from the men at other tables, we are on the dance floor writhing to the beat next to all of the other pretty young people. 

My friends and I dance with each other as well as others on the dance floor; sometimes other woman but, most often, with the handsome men that seem to gravitate to us.  It is a night for flirting – harmless or not.  The temperature seems to increase with each passing minute, adding to the frenzy of movement.  I feel a tingle and look up straight into the dark eyes of a man across the dance floor from me.   

He is breathtakingly beautiful and all of the bodies around us disappear as our eyes lock.  I don’t even remember moving but, seemingly, within a second he is right in front of me and we are moving to the music perfectly in sync with one another.  His eyes are a deep, dark brown – almost black – and I can feel myself falling into them.  

We move closer to one another….. I can't stop myself from reaching out to touch him…… his skin is cold; absolutely cold.  I jerk my hand back but he reaches out and takes it in his own cold hand and tells me not to be afraid.  He says that he is in this world for a short time but not OF this world.  I don't understand but, somehow, I'm not afraid.  

He leads me away from the dance floor toward the door of the club and I follow without hesitation, my friends forgotten.  I never leave with a man that I don't know but this feels right.  We cross the street and he stops, leans over and lightly kisses my forehead.  

I'm gazing into his eyes in wonder when there is a tremendous explosion behind us knocking me to the ground and deafening my ears for days to come.  I look around for my mysterious new friend but he's nowhere to be seen.  How can that be?  I must have a concussion; not seeing straight.  The police and emergency services soon show up and I'm loaded onto an ambulance.  Will I find him again?

I later learn that the club's owners had some underworld connections that went very sour.  Sadly, so many of their patrons paid the ultimate price for this.

(Source)

A week later now and I'm recovering from the concussion that I did indeed have and enjoying a leisurely visit with my mother.  She has brought over some old family albums to flip through while we drink tea and chat.  As we go flip through the pages of some of her oldest pictures, one particular picture stops me in my tracks.  When I ask who it is, she tells me that it was my great-grandfather who died at about my age in a mine explosion leaving behind my great-grandmother and two young children.  She comments on what a handsome man he was then continues flipping through the pages.

I have stopped paying attention; the image of those dark eyes looking up from the page etched into my mind.


(inspired by Indie Chick Lit prompt)