Friday, 8 April 2011


Late night, a taxi ride, we sit in silence and watch the empty streets. Tentatively, so tentatively, we touch fingers, smile at each other and hold hands. The thrill, the joy of such a simple act. The taxi draws up outside her house; her parents house. I get out as well, she wonders why, and say I can walk the rest of the way home. We linger at her front door. She insists we must keep quite; we cannot enter because of her parents. We stand, hold hands again, look at each other. And then that wonderful anticipation, might we, will we. She bends her head towards mine; a goodnight kiss, a long sensual goodnight kiss, she does not want to let go.

What a terrible disappointment; I leave, quick, quick, scurrying down the street. And swear to myself on the long rainy walk home: never to see her again.

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