The Parrots -- Part 2
It was only when we sat at the dining table with a view on her little garden that I observed her long green silk dress and the intricate golden hair pin that prevented her hair from flowing freely.
She was not exactly beautiful, yet she was tall, lean, intriguing like an ancient Greek statue. Her grey eyes hypnotized me.
"Why do you keep three parrots in the conservatory?" I said with some boldness.
She shrugged: "They keep me company."
"But you can't have a real conversation with them."
"Yet, they talk... Sometimes, silence is unbearable. Not even music will do."
We soon discovered we both loved classical music. Her stew was not bad either. She had even baked an almond cake.
As midnight approached, I became increasingly nervous... Would she want me to stay for the night? Would I be up to her expectations? Did she have any?
She fidgeted with the brooch on her right shoulder. As soon as she stood up, she unclinched it in a wink and her beautiful silk dress was soon at her feet.
I was still sitting and stayed so.
I felt my cheeks go hot with surprised excitement. Suddenly, I had no questions buzzing in my head: her full breasts and long thighs were enough to dispel all my fears.
She took my hand, smiling, and I followed her.
In spite of the fact that the morning after we had breakfast in front of the conservatory and that by then I called her Amy, in my mind she will always be Mrs. B.
At the breakfast table, she sat in front of me with her hair held back in a careless bun, wrapped up in a brown silk gown. Her fingers buttered the bread quickly. She was deft. Her fingers enticed me: I could imagine them flying swiftly on a piano keyboard.
I was cheerful, in awe. I could have said I was in love, but she was distant, despite sitting in front of me.
She was in a hurry, she said.
I gulped my American, swallowed my scone, gathered my scattered things, burning with desire. I tried to embrace her; she freed herself and gave me such a blank stare that I froze. She did not see anything at all.
I walked away, while she petted her parrots.
She laughed, they laughed. They banded together against me. They were mocking me again: "Who are you? Where do you come from?"
I stared at the floor. Humiliation struck me like a slap.
I drove past the semidetached houses, a set of white teeth glaring on the lips of the grey morning.
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