Silk Flowers in Water

The restaurant was dark with a red hue eavesdropping all around. The neon sign in the window hummed like the kind of fluorescents made to kill bugs. The aquarium near the host stand kept burping: it was too green and it ran in pitches of white noise.

The glasses on our table were tall with soap scum walls and unfiltered water lukewarm. He put his hand palm up on the ivory tablecloth near them and I landed mine in it.

He looked at me and smiled with his lips still closed. I had never made eye contact with anyone for that long before. He looked beyond where I could see. I was afraid to look away and lose the moment, but I was so intimidated that I knew I would never remember it.

I scooted closer in my seat despite the round table between us, and he took a heavy bite of air.

Then time went blurry.

I wish now that I could speak then because maybe, then, it wouldn’t have ended that way.