It was meant to be one of those casual lunch dates, where you laugh over soup and salad, split the bill, and go your separate ways stifling the little voice deep down somewhere, which rebelliously dares to wish for something more. Just friends. The cautious flirting never dares to bubble over the edge. The accident of hands brushing carelessly ( Read more... )

Decided to write a series of semi-fictional essays about dates.  Some are my recollections (with a lot of "artistic freedom"), some - attempts to peek into someone else's mind, others - stories overheard or imagined.     The title seemed appropriate as the series is going to be made up of vague recollections and wild fantasies of random days in ( Read more... )

 I take care of her like it's my job. I run to her at every beck and call. Kind of like now: all she has to do is say the magic words, "I need you", and I'm there. I swoop in like her guardian angel: always by her side, but always a step behind. Watching over her, but never just watching her sleep with her head on my chest. Comforting her when ( Read more... )

 "Do you know that there once was a time when they could burn you at the stake or drown you for being a witch?" he said.  And sure enough, "bewitched" was the only way he could describe how he felt.  He turned towards her and examined her profile backlit by the setting sun.  Eyes trained on the rooftops that glowed in the golden light of the ( Read more... )

As we sat having dinner I couldn't help but let my hand linger near hers on the table, if not to touch it, then at least to feel its warmth, which would travel from my fingertips up my arm and into my chest: filling it, spreading in waves, choking me.  As I dug into my meal I watched her deal with hers.  She put each piece of food into her mouth ( Read more... )