Now, Isn't That Lovely?

a picture perfect moment
photoshopped to make it look real
enhanced emotions
sharpened datails
airbrushed to cover the pain

a magazine cover
two images made into one
inserting faces
cropped out in places
hiding the unwanted

Quiescence

Love is the triumph of imagination over intelligence.
--H. L. Mencken

She knew what would happen if he reached out and brushed the hair off her face.

But he didn't do that.

It was a classic Pinter moment. It was impossible to have a moment without all the subtext. Words have always gotten them into so much trouble. Everything between them had to be said in silence because the emotion behind what they really wanted to say is just too overwhelming. Silence is an acquired taste. The more complicated life becomes, the better it is to learn to say nothing.

She knew he didn't think about her the way she thought about him. And she's cool with that. But for a moment there, it was kinda nice to pretend that they actually did care.

Or was it real? Has it come to a point where he had to start second guessing everything he knows? What he though he knows, in contrast to what she dreams of. She dreams, he believes. Can they acheive any of it?

He didn't know what came over him. If it was the soft glow of the incandescent light illuminating the side of her face. Or the soft tapping of rain on the panes.

He reached over and brushed the hair off her face...

Taken

As my eyes focused on the silhouette that came into view, my heart raced like it would jump out of my chest. Its thunderous beating drowned out all the noise in the background. I've waited a long time for this. Sometimes it seems not enough. And now it's here. My prize. My dream. He's here. The perfect living embodiment of all that I desired but was too scared to claim.

I looked sideways and searched for a safe and subtle escape route. None was in dispense. The closer he came the stronger I was drawn. But the feeling in my legs was rapidly deteriorating. I couldn't move. Yet movement was all around me. Like a surreal scene that many times played in my head. He and I in slow motion. Everything else a blur in speed. I felt my stomach do an overturn and I could just imagine my face turning green. I had to compose myself.

He was beautiful. Like the autumn skylike nearing winter dusk. The vigor of a wild stallion grazing the rich country with the grace and magnificence of a gentle unicorn. His eyes had that fire that burns a hole right through my soul. And the innocence of his face reflected tranquility amidst the chaos of his own mind.

Standing face to face, he carefully raised his hand to my chin and gently touched his lips to my cheek. He looked into my eyes, and with a playful smirk, he leaned in and whispered to my ear.

"Let's get out of here."