“The Lady In Red”
It was a rainy night, the pavement shone with fierce intensity, illuminating her visage. A face smiled at me in anticipation and desire; it was as intoxicating as moonshine. I could smell her fragrant perfume wafting on the stiff breeze, it clung to my nose like dryer lint. A Gucci bag dangled from her manicured fingers, her diamonds cast rainbows in the moonlight.
I was early as a dog to a hydrant; she was ecstatic to see me for the first time. Her arms were wide open in friendly greeting; she called out, her melodic voice a balm to my troubled soul. Kissing my smooth shaven cheeks in joyous excitement, I felt like a young boy let loose in a chocolate shop, my mind already savoring the sight of her generous form.
We walked to the La Femme Fatale, only three miles away; she was riveted to my every word like a velvet Elvis hanging in a smoky pool hall. I impressed her with my command of the language that I had learned in my stint in the Foreign Legion. I promptly ordered for us both; she daintily consumed her repast and after long hours of conversation, we left, “do you want fries with that”, still ringing in our ears.
Soon returning to the area whence we had met; decided this wonderful date must be repeated. With light heart, she agreed, only to discover, alas, the very next day she was due to report for a six months tour of duty in the Gobi Desert. We clung in desperation to each other, frantically making out with no time to lose. But only too soon, I had to return to prison on my pass, and we parted, never to see each other again.