Wednesday, September 23, 2009


How about this?
Look at me. She smacked her lips together, making a pleasant 'pop' sound.
It's called Plum. There was a reddish brown color on her lips.
That's nice.
Oh, oh, what about this? She held up another lipstick sampler.
It's called Dusk Rose.
Well, you have a tough choice to make. Either way, you look lovely.

He was a manly guy. He didn't really want to be in this women's cosmetic store. He slowly made his way to the perfume counter full of tiny bottles of scented oils. Most of them had exotic names. Then he found a section that had simpler names: Sea Breeze, Laundromat, Lobster, Bonfire...
He opened the Bonfire sampler. The name intrigued him. He sniffed without thinking much of anything. All of sudden the memories of his first love came rushing in.

It's mid September. Since it's an off-season, they don't have any problem finding a vacant cottage right next to the beach without reservation. The cottage has a kitchen and a wood burning fireplace. It is big enough for a family of five. But it's just two of them. Even though four hour drive has worn them out, they make love as soon as they get in as if it's their last time.

By the time he wakes up, she's not there next to him. He sees the sliding glass door facing the foggy beach slightly open. He puts on a thick sweater and steps out of the cottage. It's bitter cold. And the fog is as thick as milk in tea. He calls her name. She doesn't call him back. Moisture in the air is gently wetting his face. The sand beneath his bare feet is damp and cold. He follows her almost invisible foot prints. So faint. He's afraid they would stop in the middle of the beach. He looks up helplessly. He calls her name again. Nothing.

Everything is very still except for the sound of the low tide. He smells it first- the wood burning smell. Then He sees a small dancing yellow figure in the foggy distance- a bonfire. And she is sitting there, looking at it motionlessly. She looks smaller than usual, covered in his coat. There is no one around. The person who started the fire must've gone back up the shore, judging by the set of foot prints. He sits behind her and holds her. She holds him back, still looking at the bonfire. He knows she is going to leave in a few months. They both know it isn't going to work out between them. This is going to be the last time for them to be together.

He broke down and cried right there and then, in the shop full of women.

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