The frozen gaze of a woman who has been looking for you her entire life. When she finds you, relief and regret can't help but flop her arms akimbo as the background noise of both your lives fades away to nothing. This is the residue of that background noise. The stuff that falls away as the important things in life become crystal clear. Or something.
Apart meant apartment. It started with an argument and ended with an apartment.
"Let's take the train it'll be fun!" Sure. I'm sure it's fun to visit a coal mine too. But I follow her, and step on her heels. She's not as fast as she would seem. Her lips blur while she talks, they move like hummingbird wings. But she walks slow. I bump into her heels again. The wings stop. Expensive shoes apparently. Her chin is lowered, her eyes are up, and I believe she's disappointed with the velocity of my gait. I step back. She's on the train, and I'm on the platform, and as if my will could move metal, the train doors close. Years later my sister will call me on the way to her wedding. They became friends through separate circumstances, which struck me as odd.
Scandinavian or Norwegian, I don't remember, but her alpine breasts made me Swiss.
Under the Tuscan Sun, In the Tuscan Parking lot is where we made our scene. She pretended that she couldn't speak English, but she knew how to say "no" flawlessly.
She wouldn't go topless, but oddly the bottoms came off quickly. The socks were my idea. I never worked with a live model before, much less one so beautiful. The fact that she showed up at my office added an element of excitement and exhibitionism not usually found in my day to day work as an accountant. I locked the door, closed the blinds and used whatever office supplies I could to capture her likeness. We did several poses, but this last one is my favorite. Just a quick sketch, which I enlarged with a photocopier and painted with acrylic. Afterwards, we went to my place for a thoroughly innovative lovemaking session. She moved in the next day, and although our short relationship was very passionate and satisfying, she was batshit crazy and within a week she burned the place down. That was the last time I saw her. Everything was burned, so I packed a bag and left. I bumped into her one night and a friend of hers beat me stupid. She used a cop friend to get my address and harassed me a bit. Even a court ordered restraining order could not keep her from constantly begging for one more furious lovemaking tryst. Years later, I would realize I imagined the whole thing.
She waited naked with a cup of coffee for Spiderman. He always comes before noon, but today he was late. Their conversations could go on for hours, and she always wondered why he didn't respond to the sirens. She was glad he stayed through the distant crises, but she felt guilty…he's Spiderman, and someone's life could be in jeopardy, and he was busy chatting with her through her screen. But that wasn't Spiderman, that was a squirrel, and he isn't coming back ever.