ments. Never did anyone try less to fascinate. He could not recall one single little thing that she had done to draw him to her. Was it, perhaps, her very passivity, her native pride that never offered or asked anything, a sort of soft stoicism in her fibre; that and some mysterious charm, as close and intimate as scent was to a flower?
He waited to open till he heard her footsteps just outside. She came in without a word, not even looking at him. And he, too, said not a word till he had closed the door, and made sure of her. Then they turned to each other. Her breast was heaving, a little, under her thick frock, but she was calmer than he, with that wonderful composure of pretty women in all the passages of love, as who sould say: This is my native air!
They stood and looked at each other, as if they could never have enough, till he said at last:
"I though I should die before this moment came. There isn't a minute that I don't long for you so terribly that I can hardly live."
"And do you think that I don't long for you?"
"Then come to me!"
She looked at him mournfully and shook her head.
Well, he had known that she would not. He had not earned her. What right had he to ask her to fly against the world, to brave everything, to have such faith in him - as yet? He had no heart to press his words, beginning then to understand the paralyzing truth that there was no long an re-
"...she was calmer than he, with that wonderful composure of pretty women in all the passages of love..."
I doubt it would surprise any reader that this passage, with its dramatic and passionate overtones, conjured memories of past romantic, intimate and physical liaisons. Don't worry, I'm not going to launch into any sort of tawdry boasting or claims of exaggerated prowess. I wasn't too sure of what I was going to write without having to tread down the ex-girlfriend path. On further reflection and repeated readings I began to identify with how a person can be momentarily robbed of their faculties simply by the presence of another.
A few years ago I was welcoming the arrival of the new year at a lock-in at a bar where we knew the staff and management. I had finished a long day and night of work, so I was pretty tired. Sitting with my boss and one of the bouncers from another bar, I noticed a girl walk in. She was simply beautiful. "Who's the brunette?" my question laced with awe and wonder. My boss got up and brought her over to our table, telling her exactly what I had just asked (to no one in particular I thought). She delicately sat herself adjacent to me, crossed her legs, placed both hands on one knee, looked me straight in the eye and genuinely smiled. "Hello Luke, how has your New Year's been?" I could only reply with some sort of guttural sound and incoherent stammering whilst my eyes sagged to the floor. Not a charming display. She probably assumed that I was drunk (it was four - five o clock in the morning), after a few moments she diverted her attention to a person from whom she could elicit words, articulate sentences and something tantamount to wit. My mature response was to quicken the pace of my drinking, the effects of which was intensified by a long split shift and a paucity of food, ultimately turning me into the drunken idiot she originally assumed I was.
"Never did anyone try less to fascinate."
I don't remember where, but a few years ago I read an article about extravagant displays of wealth in people's homes and offices. The line I remember most, and I am loosely paraphrasing, was that 'spending a great sum of money on a sculpture/piece of art and giving it maximum exposure (a landing/entry area) is a grand way of extending a giant middle finger to colleagues, competitors and associates' Does this belie a fulfilling existence? It would be easy to say no, but my life infrequently intersects with the lives of high-earning peoples, so I'm not really in a position to judge, let alone dictate how they should best spend their money. Acquiring and strategically placing a ludicrously expensive piece of art for the purpose of telling someone to go fuck themselves might to some be quite immature. I like the subtlety and lack thereof, but mostly, I applaud the effort.
Which one makes the greater impression on you?
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