You’re sitting at a café when a stranger approaches you. The person asks what your name is; and for some reason you reply. The stranger nods “I’ve been looking for you”.
What happens next?
I search the stranger’s face for any conspicuous mark or line that sparks a memory flint into flame….. I find none. He sits down in the opposite chair and sends a lazy smile across the table, waiting expectedly. I search his face again and I’m accosted by his eyes. Brown hazel nut pools flecked with tiny emeralds and in the margins of his eyes I read the side note he’s scribbling: Come away with me.
I don’t know him, but boy with those eyes I’d like to know him. I give myself a stern talk: “You’re not a 16 year old teen who’s never been kissed. You’re a successful lawyer. Pull it together”. So I paint the “I’m-in-control-and-cool-about-it” expression on my face with a slow confident smile like a woman who’s seen this scene play out too many times. “If you’ve been looking for the person who can put you in your place, then yes I am who you’ve been looking for” I say with a smug smile.
A wild laugh trickles from his left dimple, “Yes indeed you are who I’ve been looking for. I don’t believe in wasting opportunities and we I saw you here today, I could just tell by the way you ordered your coffee that I have been bored by mundane girls for far too long.”
I want to smirk and arch an eyebrow, but the blatant honesty of the statement awakes long forgotten butterflies. I am not too old for this? I want to say something clever but he eyes linger on my mouth and I wonder have I woken-up in wonderland?
“You wear expensive shoes. Your hair looks amazing. You’re not a lady. You’re a full red hot blooded woman who doesn’t jump but leaps. You are structure and you are order. But I could also tell by the way you looked off distantly into the street daydreaming that in your head you’re not some boss. You’re barefoot and singing, giving in to a passion too great for your control. You’re burn with desire. You take chances and you’re longing for that one thing or one person to run wild with you. Two completely different people in one soul and heart – Fascinating”
Is this a book, has he read my diary? Has he climbed into my very soul? I left that girl behind long ago…. There is no time or space for freedom in success. Yet his words has slam-dunked into my heart, and I feel like I could take his hand and run away or maybe more like just running away 100 miles in the opposite direction…… but suddenly I’m scared someone will never look at me like that again, while I’m sitting at a café drinking coffee, wondering if I’ll ever experience the mad hatter’s party again? I’m afraid suddenly, so afraid that I call the waiter and ask for the bill. So afraid that my eyes linger on his lips and my hand writes poetry on his wrist…….
He sees her smile, the naked longing for freedom trapped in her hands playing along his wrist and he knows “I got her”. Everyone is trapped nowadays, and wants to believe that movies come true. So he plays whoever they look for, and in return he gets his named splashed upon the front page of the newspaper tomorrow, he wonders what it will read this time?
“Scarf killer sentences lawyer to death in San Francisco”