Martini after Sunset

The incandscent light in the room spilled a warm shade on everyone's skin. Everyone appeared smooth that night, yet unpalpable. She, especially, could not be touched. He pictured himself walking across that room; and placing a glass box around her body. As though she were a relic in a museum. She hardly spoke a word to the others; he wondered why she came at all. She sat and slowly drank her martini; and he watched her, not caring if she knew.

Another girl began dancing in the corner. Soon all of the eyes were watching the movements of her body. Except for his. He tried to keep his gaze on the girl with the martini. The dancing girl closed her eyes and her shirt began to fall off one of her shoulders. This girl knew how to become the center of the universe in an instant. He watched the girl with the martini, who watched the dancing girl.

When she was finished dancing she walked over to the bar and made herself a drink.

A young man walked over to her as she took a sip. Her black hair was desheveled from dancing, and he moved a piece of it that was hanging slightly over her eyes. The room was too loud to make out their voices, but the conversation became irrelevent. Their body movements spoke for them.

The girl with the martini lit a cigarette and crossed her legs. He took this as a sign that she was nervous.

She was wearing a black dress. She was probably uncomfortable. She was probably thinking about going home and taking the dress off. How good it will feel to be free of it. It was too short for the fall weather. But then, so were all of the other girls' dresses. It made him instantly sad that all of these girls had to wear short dresses in November because if one of them didn't, she would fit in right. What did they all think about as they dressed themselves? It is definitely not their comfort, he knew that. They probably figured the more uncomfortable they are, the more attractive they will be. Their mothers told them that.

She had blonde hair. It was various shades of blonde; and messy. He wondered if any other man was watching her. It didn't appear that way. She wasn't very noticable; in that corner, with her martini and black dress. She put out her cigarette and lit another one. So she is bored, he gathered. He thought about walking over to her. But then he would become like the man who spoke to the dancer, and she wouldn't like that. He could tell.

He lit himself a cigarette and walked around the room, socializing with the others, making his way toward her; but not making eye contact. She stood up and walked to the bar. She needed another martini. He finished the drink in his own hand and walked toward her.

She turned toward him.

"Scotch?" He nodded. She filled his glass.

"I saw you in the corner before."

She didn't look at him. "I know".

"What do you think of this party?"

"Nothing. It's full of a lot of nothing."

"I'll have to say you are right."

"I usually am."

"Why did you come?"

"Probably the same reason you did." Then she took a sip from her drink.



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