See how she puts on her make-up. She curls her lashes with a tiny brush. They look thicker. She blinks twice and smiles at the mirror. See how she applies the red lipstick. She smacks her lips with finality. This is the umpteenth time she is brushing her hair. Each stroke for each strand? Maybe. She is gorgeous. Her face an angels. Have you ever met an angel? Neither have I – she’ll do. Her phone rings. She picks it her voice slow and mellow. She says she’ll be ready. She’s not sure when. Beauty is not rushed.
He is angry. Why does she take forever. He has been waiting – for hours. I exaggerate. It has only been 25 minutes. That’s quarter of an hour. Still long. He was ready in ten. But he’s a man she’s not. She’s delicate he’s not. He should understand. He clicks checks his watch. Another minute gone. He paces up and down wearing down the rug. Hands akimbo he stops. Enough is enough. He leaves. Too soon maybe. He’s impatient. Beauty takes time somebody tell him. There’s no one so he goes.
She steps out. Like an angel she looks. Her body luminescent. Her curves perfect. Her hair flows like the falls. Her eyes glimmer with beauty. Her lips luscious – inviting. She looks at the empty room. Her face grimaces. Wrinkles struggle to form on her forehead. She throws down her bag. She’s sad. She’s angry. She doesn’t deserve this. She took time. Time to look good for him. But he’s gone. Time wasted. She calls. It rings and rings. He doesn’t pick. Her hands are on her face.her knees hit the floor. She sobs. Her make up ruined. Her dress creased. Her bossom heaves. Another night alone. She sighs.
The lights flash. He gets frisked. He’s in. Heads to the bar. He asks for three. One for him two for her. She’s skimpy. She’s brown. She’s curvy. Her hair is not hers. Her eyes covered in thick paint. Her dress short. Her heels are longer. She takes a sip. She smiles. She winks. Her friend joins. He is happy. Another two for her friend. The night is young. He’s not going home. Not to her. Not tonight. She’ll learn her lesson. He thinks. He drinks some more.
She’s home. She’s on the phone. She cant take it anymore. Her friend listens. He always does. She’s crying. He hears the tears fall. He drops the call. He comes over. Hugs her. Tells her its alright. The hug is warm. She looks at him. Why hasn’t she done it before. Looked at him – in such a way. She stops crying. She kisses him. He pulls back – shocked. She kisses him again. Reluctant he kisses back. Its too warm. His shirt is off. Her dress too. The room is too big. They head to the bedroom. The door is shut. The lights are out. She is not alone.
He leaves the club. She’s in tow. He’s drunk. She’s staggering. They stumble and fall. They get up. Get a cab. Head to her place. They are clumsy. His shirt is torn. His shoe is out the window. They bang. No protection. They sleep or is it blackout? He snores. She drools. He tosses and turns. She kicks. He falls. Hugs the floor. She lays naked. She’s cold. It’s a long night.
She’s up. She smiles. Kisses him. She’s happy. He’s happy. No regrets. A new dawn. He appreciates her. It’s all she wanted. Good riddance.
He’s up. His head aches. He leaves. Embarrassed. She looked better at night. He limps off. Days later she calls. She’s late. He learns his lesson. The angel is long gone.