Him. Her. Car. Traffic Jam. Din. Honks. Headlights. Red light. Rain.
It falls from somewhere beyond the yellow glow of the street lamps into the puddles on the road. It falls on the windshield and the windows. Light, drunk on the raindrops, gets into the car and dances on her shoulder. He can’t help but steal a glance.
A raindrop begins a leisurely downward glide on the glass, it’s shadow inside the car is made of light. A drop made of light glides down her forehead, to her cheek. It comes to rest right at the corner of her lips. A kiss he could never get lives in that corner. He thinks of Peter Pan and Wendy. He realizes that he is staring and turns the other way.
Concurrences and happenstance. The two of them in the same car.
She is mildly irritated. Getting tired of the traffic and noise. The silence in the car isn’t helping. Time, too slow for her, too fast otherwise.
Selfishly, he does not want the rain to end or the traffic to move. He doesn’t even want to stop staring. If only he could say something now.
What interests her? I don’t watch sports. You don’t talk about sports to a girl! What do you talk about? She’s a near stranger. Be funny. Yeah? and say what? What did you say to get in the same cab?
“Oh! you are going there too?”, ” I hear it’s a good one!”, “…we could share the ride.” A little courage, a lot of luck.
So, back to now. He wishes there was a sentence where the words hope, faith and divinity could meld with dirty, erotic, mystery. He could really use that sentence right now.
She is right there, half your wish come true. Now what will you do?
She impatiently turns towards the window, away from him. Shadows shift amidst the sparkling lights. His resolve breaks, a gaze, just one more.
It’s a white top, no a light pink one, are those flowers? green? Wait, it’s this light, what is the color of her…oh God! his eyes are not behaving themselves.
This is getting awkward, if he could say the right thing now, break the silence, she would be happy again.
And then, they would kiss with abandon. Oblivious of the crowd. And the drops of light would dance. The earth would spin around them and hum happily ever after.
Desires. Dreams. Stop stargazing and start being present. Last chance.
Restlessly she turns back, looks at her mobile phone, dials.
“Hi! Is there another show of the movie today? It’s such a beautiful romance and I’ll miss it because of this stupid traffic right now.”
Red lights turn green. He looks to the road. Cars begin to crawl. A skipped beat from his lower left ventricle goes unheard.
Din. Honks. Headlights. A little drop of light is left behind.