The hush hush Street.
Like snippets of my imagination, a hurricane of possibilities rove through my mind when I saw the man standing there, under the yellow street lamp smoking his pipe. His body language was unsure, his eyes were hollow holes with only the jaws of his face illuminated. His coat was old, strands of wool discharged into awkward angles of obtuse. His posture kept shifting, trying to hold a confident edge but failed miserably to find a comfortable stand..
"Hmm..Nervous..But would he?" ; I heard my mind calculate the possibilities.. I decided against him. I remembered Boss complaining about my insularity, the other day. And suddenly, I found myself in an agitation to prove him wrong, like a child I felt my brows frowning and my knees felt weak.
I lit my smoke, the tiny flame caught the man's attention in the dim surrounding. I leaned next to the bar door and let the light of the fluctuating tube light above outlining the bar's name fall on me. On my cut sleeved red dress, on the careless chunks of jewellery accentuating my collar bone, on the red high heels that transformed me the minute I kicked them on.
I let the man see me.
He took half a step, adjusting his hat. And then retreated back, and walked away briskly.
"Hmm.. he wouldn't. Too much of a pet cat.."; I smiled.
I blew the smoke up into the air, letting the chill in the air soothe my face, and calm my relieved nerves. I drew in and drew out my right leg on the concrete below. I was surprised at how gorgeous they looked. I heard Ruby's words somewhere in my ear; "Practice makes a woman perfect hun.. A man will always be just as imperfect as the first try." ; and somewhere I saw her wink too.
A couple passed by. The man's eyes immediately shifted to my legs, the hips, and then above. And then quickly looked at his wife with an apologetic smile, who didn't notice his seconds of fantasy. The wife smiled back. But they walked swiftly and took a turn in the next block. Getting rid of this street as soon as they could. The man looked back, before the curve.
"Of course he'll come back to this street very soon." my mind spoke.
I lit the next cigarette. A Mercedes Benz swooshed by, and stopped abruptly in front of the bar three doors away. The expensive one. A lean man in an expensive ensemble stepped out with a white package under his armpit. He put on a white fedora, and walked in quickly.
"Did expensive really matter?" , my mind asked.
An hour later, I spotted the man. This time, the fedora was gone, the outline of his hair was ruffled, and his walk a little unstable, trying to keep a quick pace. The irritable foot tapping didn't stop until the Benz came to pick him up, and the car went away. I saw the man pull up the window.
I lit my third cigarette. And waited for some more faces, few more shadows to lurk around this forbidden and yet celebrated street of the city. I exhaled in the warmth of the smoke, the only companion who'd hover around,follow the faces in ghostly shapes and vanish into thin air just like the shadows of this hush hush street.. who'd hover around until one of them would actually come where I stood, slide his arms into my waist and let me escort him into the door behind me.
I waited and let the brothel in my mind speak, judge and laugh.
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