Perfect Strangers

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She was standing with her back against the wall, one leg up, her arms wrapped around her waist. Her eyes were focused on the crowd, but she was a million miles away, floating up in space.

He was in the same position, on the other side of the room. Back against the wall, one leg up, his arms wrapped around his waist. His eyes were focused on the crowd, but he was a million miles away, floating up in space.

A girl with a wilting ponytail and an impossibly short black dress on tripped over. She squealed and fell into the crowd, toppling three other gravely drunk people and spilling her beer everywhere. The people surged away from her, and across the room their eyes met. They both smiled.

Moments later, his fingers brushed her arm, their eyes met for the second time, and wordlessly they left the building. Walking down the street, his fingers interlaced with hers. Neither of them led, they just walked. The streets led them to the slow waves, where the mist hung heavily in the air. It was a long way to the end of the pier, so far that the mist hid where they had come from, as if they were on an island of their own. But still they walked, until they reached the final railing, and turned to each other.

He was still holding her hand, and now he let it go, tilting her face upwards with his hand. He used his other to gently place a strand of hair behind her ear. She closed her eyes, and then he kissed her. It was the longest kiss either of them had ever had, and the best. They kissed for what felt like hours, until the sun was freeing itself from the depths of the ocean in front of them, lighting up their faces as they pulled away from each other.

Wide smiles spread across their faces, and they looked out at the sun together. She took a notebook and pen out of her bag, scribbled something across a page, then ripped it out. She pushed the notebook and pen back in her bag, and then slid the piece of paper into the pocket of his hoodie. He put his arm around her shoulders, and they watched the sunrise that lay before them. She took his hand and kissed him twice more, once on the lips and once on the nose, and then she turned and walked away, back to shore, to wherever her home was.

He watched her disappear into the mist, and took the piece of paper out of his pocket. There was a number scrawled across the page, and underneath, in messy handwriting, the words ‘call me‘ were written. He grinned.

Walking away, she tucked her hands in her pockets, replaying everything that had happened like a film. Her phone beeped in her pocket. She didn’t check it, but as she stepped off the wooden steps of the pier, she grinned.


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Almost, Almost

Queer librarian blogs mostly about books

© Felipe Adan Lerma - All Rights Reserved - Blogging at WordPress Since 2011 :)

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