I guess it
had to be this way. Endings are rarely as beautiful as beginnings. Air whistled
around the train, its passengers swaying to the rhythm as they sped along steel
and timber to their various existences outside of corporate America. Darryl
replayed memories over and over in his head.
He took note
of the brunette staring his way. Her bright ruby red lipstick accentuated her
almond eyes, and for a white girl, she had a wide nose. He saw her every day,
and every day they locked eyes, smiled and nodded to each other.
He bit back
tears. Beauty should never die. The brunette sat next to him. “Hi, I’m Gail.”
She sat patiently, the scent of her perfume filled Darryl’s nostrils. He was
instantly forced to look deep into the brown abyss of this gorgeous woman’s
soul. “Darryl,” was all he could manage to get out. He was shocked. This
gorgeous white woman, who no doubt probably worked as a lawyer, or in City
Hall, was sitting here next to this big muscular black construction worker,
wanting to get to know him. “What do you say we get off at the next stop?”
Suddenly Darryl didn’t feel so sad anymore. “Yeah? Yeah, that sounds cool,
Gail.” The way he said her name made her heart skip a beat.
Gail watched
this man for months get on and off the train. They always locked eyes. They
always smiled. For the first time today, she noticed there seemed to be no life
in his face. She was curious as to why, she was curious to see if could change
that.
Once of the
train, they climbed out of the subway and out onto the street. “So, Darryl,
what moves you?” Gail wasn’t going to waste this evening with pleasantries. A
man she hardly knew looked as if he lost his best friend, and she wanted to
help.
Darryl
looked up in surprise at the question, but he was ready with an answer, long
before the question was ever asked, Darryl knew. He lived by this conviction,
it motivated his movement, his speech, and despite being in a career he didn’t
enjoy, it showed in his work. “Love, beauty, and art.” Gail couldn’t help getting
turned on. They both sensed a sexual tension between them, but they both knew
there were ingredients that needed to be mixed just right. “What about you,
Gail? What drives you?” They arrived at a quaint neighborhood bar on Tenth
street. The way her escaped from those beautiful succulent lips gave her goose
bumps. Gail was a highly educated woman, but if she didn’t know any better,
she’d swear she was falling in love. She knew it wasn’t lust—lust required
different ingredients. A knowing of one’s person, but a disliking of the
embodiment of their soul, yet a yearning for their touch.
When she
smiled, her eyes squinted every so lightly, and the corners of her mouth turned
up with great expression. “Art, love, both of which I find beautiful.” Two
drinks were ordered. Gail turned and looked Darryl straight into his soul.
“We’ve made eye contact on the blue line for over six months. I have dreamed
about approaching you, but I had to feel you out. We’d always smile, then part
ways. That was always the best part of my day. Your smile. Your eyes. I noticed
something different about you today.”
Darryl stared straight back at her. He liked her style. “I don’t believe beauty
should die, and today I got wind an old friend has moved on.” Gail took a
seductive sip of her drink. She inhaled the stale air deeply, “My love, beauty
can be created, but it cannot die.” Passion dripped from her every word. “Oh
yeah?”
Leaning in
and almost whispering, Gail said, “No my love, beauty will live on here,”
tapping her temple, “and here,” placing her hand on his chest. “Who died?” “Not
who. A guy who owned a small art studio, well he would display a lot of art in
this shop of his. He closed it. Said some developers offered him a nice deal.
It was the brightest spot in my childhood. But sitting here with you, hearing
your words. You’re right, those memories will live forever in me.” Gail rested
her hand on top of his. “We should leave.”
Back at his apartment, Gail made love to this man she only just met an hour ago. It was fierce, passionate, it was the realest thing she had ever experienced in twenty-nine years of existence. Every orgasm took her to a new height of pleasure and ecstasy. Theirs was a passionate love of art, filled with beauty. They regretted it deep inside, although the passion shared between them bordered a fierce, almost violent love.