Wednesday, September 10, 2014

Fall

It was an evening in September.

The days were shrinking. The sun set earlier than it used to. There was a chilly breeze and it carried fallen leaves. The leaves grated the cobblestones, like they were clawing in vain to save their lives from whatever death the breeze was going to put them to.

The car came onto the driveway. Though it was not dark yet, the headlights were on. As soon as it came to a standstill, they powered down. There was a fumbling of the keys. A momentary look in the mirror before the door opened and a few moments to gather a briefcase, a coat and gloves. After a quick check of the wheels, the door was slammed shut. The car lock button was pressed twice - a hoot followed, confirming the doors on the car were closed and it was secure. Then, a pause, as mascaraed eyes took in the view.

And after a swift turnaround, footsteps ensued. The leaves that were clinging on the cobblestones grated to their pulverized deaths. They marched on in a smart tempo. A strong gust. The pullover was pulled tighter to beat the cold from the breeze. To augment protection against the cold, the coat was thrown across the shoulders. The strides grew longer - quicker. A shiver had set in before the coat could get to action. A shrug to toss it off.

At the foot of the stairs near the end of the driveway, the feet skipped lithely to the top of the small stairs to the door. Another gust. Colder fingers. An index finger hastily pressed on the doorbell while easing the left hand into a glove. It was getting colder. Hand half in glove, the finger pressed the doorbell again. Painted nails quickly plunged to their places in the garment.

Inside. A tap had been filling the sink. Suds had formed in it, in preparation for the array of cooking dishes that awaited harsh rubbing. Hands in latex gloves were working their way on a greasy saucepan, scrubbing the dirt off it and restoring it to a shade of its past glory. A doorbell rang, causing an exclamation. Before composure could be restored, another ring of the doorbell. A knowing smile lit up the face. Feet grew light. Heart beats took flight. The saucepan, half done, was cast aside.  The latex gloves revealed painted nails before they fell on the counter, neatly. The apron was tossed on its side of the shelf. A clean pan was a momentary mirror - a couple of burrs were set right. A nod of agreement was shared between the head and its reflection. The pan resumed its place on the hanger and slippered feet rushed to the door.

A quick peek through the peep hole. Excitement on the face as it confirmed the expected visitor, who was holding too tightly to the coat and seemed to have become a little resistant to the cold. A finger inadvertently raced to the painted lips. Hands quickly tugged on the skirt to smoothen the squishing it had endured from leaning against the kitchen cabinet later, the door opened.

Two excited squeals. A gust. One body shivered in the gust. The other came on over it. The shivering from the cold ceased, but not the shivering from the excitement. Lips pushed against each other. Lips locked together, smoothly. Lipsticks messed up. Breasts squished. Bodies embraced tightly. Another gust. A shivering body was swathed by the better protected one. More lip locking. A little tongue.

To keep cruel nature from interrupting a moment so precious, a gloved hand dropped a briefcase and slammed the door shut behind it. The moment moved to the inside. A warm house. A home. Filled with love.

Flushed faces pulled apart and regarded each other. Bodies were still knit at the middle and down. After catching their breaths, one said, 'Darling!'. The other, 'Mi amore!'. They looked at each other's messed up make up and broke into laughter. A cheek was pecked by happy lips.

And that, is love. And that, is happiness.