Photo: Gunita Klauga
She has got a lot to tell you!

It is already an hour since evening wound day in his hugs. I envy day. Day doesn’t sense how lucky she is or even if she does then she doesn’t appreciate it. She has somebody who is faithfully waiting every evening at home’s skyline, on the coast, the grasslands, behind the horizon…

Evening and day playfully enjoy each other with a gentle blow of wind till the last thread. Darkness has eyesight, she doesn’t need a light, then comes morning - and evening is having breakfast with day - veiled in fog - in the bed of the universe. They give each other the last raised kiss and say Goodbye. The day withdraws into her robe and slips out of evening’s gentle hands: “till evening my love…”

I won’t deny it - the same hands day after day would bore me. I’ll be honest, I miss constancy and firm ground, which would wind stability into me, but in the same time I like this unpredictability a bit, which tucks me in its blanket, soft but rough.

I wake up and I know that right after getting out of my bed I go to my small and dark kitchen, where I sip a cup of strong coffee and smoke two morning cigarettes, it’s a moment among empty marmalade jars.

I wake up and I know that after visiting the kitchen I move to the bathroom to wash away the sweet night-slumber from my pale body.

I wake up and I know that after getting rid of my sleep I go to my daily tasks, moving elegantly and alluringly.

I wake up and don’t know where I will see the next morning, but I’m sure if I wake up somewhere else I’ll be missing home, which is dusted with my thoughts.

Generally speaking this evening didn’t differ from all the previous evenings, it was a cosy pub where the bravest were allowed to stretch vocal cords which were normally sleepy in the daytime, and sing some karaoke pieces. One leg crossed over the other, I was sitting at the bar on a chair placed beside a palm which had already turned yellow. Obviously the employees in this place aren’t very friendly to plants, I was thinking whilst sipping one of those barman’s concoctions called “Coquette”. What a daft name for a cocktail! Why “Coquette”? Why they don’t have cocktails with names like “Whore” or “Horny” or…something else, whatever, but not “ Coquette”.

These evenings differ only in my companions in conversation, who come across me if I’m lucky. Today it seemed that the slot machine hit the jackpot, because an average man walked slowly into in the pub with a lovely, but at the same time ridiculous bag hanging over his shoulder. The bag was grey with two silvery clips over the pockets and a sticker which said “Sexy Bum”. Yes, his bum was great indeed! If I were a she-dog, I’d run up to him and bite into it to make sure that it tastes as great as it looks. The young man walked to the bar and ordered…coffee!?

-“So, driving somewhere, are you?” I needed to start the conversation somehow as I just couldn’t let the slow-walking guy with the strange bag go away, I mean, I couldn’t let him leave this pub without me.

-“So, planning to chat somebody up who can drive you home, because you’ll be too pissed to walk?” he replied immediately.

Oh, yes, he was very direct and precisely so direct that it allowed me not to take him personally. I got truly interested.

- “Yes, that’s right, but I have to admit that I don’t want to pick “somebody” up, but precisely you. I need to be sure how I’m going to get home.”

Photo: Stefan Franke/ www.youthphotos.eu
E&M girls shout: " Trousers down!"

- “What are you drinking?”

- “My cocktail is called Whore!”

- “That’s very interesting! Are there more cocktails with such original names?”

- “Yes, the next cocktail I’m going to drink is called Horny! “

- “And do you want to get horny?” his sky-blue eyes, which were covered up by his eyelashes every now and then, lit up and sparkled.

Yes, with those eyelashes he could cover all my body, I thought to myself.

- “I’m ready! Put your hand between my legs and find out for yourself!” I pulled up my crinkly skirt a bit.

Of course, he didn’t do that and I didn’t expect him to either, I just wanted to tease him and myself a bit, that was all I meant to do.

- “I would love to touch you, but I’m afraid something uncontrollable might happen. I don’t think the barmen would like such depravity.”

I let myself be carried away… I have stepped already on this evening’s breathtaking border, which gives me spontaneity. I ordered one more cocktail named by me “Horny” and let myself get deeper into this spicy dialogue. During the conversation I noticed that he wasn’t the type of a man who was ready tear into pieces any woman who said “Take me!“ Serious and prudent…that was him. I would love to think that he kept such a distance because he sensed that I was a strong and confident woman

Is that what I am? Yes!

I had managed to drink only three of the kinky cocktails when my strange bag owner invited me to get into his small beige limousine and go wherever I pleased. The rumble of the engine came not only from the car, but also from my body - my heart beat rapidly, pointing to excitement and desire…the desire to continue this evening with this man and the desire to meet sunrise together.

- “Where do I need to go, my naughty girl?”
he whispered softly in my ear.

His voice was so tender that if I had been a child, I would have fallen asleep immediately.

- “How about you choose the way? You do understand that you won’t get rid of me that easily any more this evening, don’t you?”

Yes, it could be that I’m a pushy woman, but I think that nowadays that’s the only way to get what you want from a man.

- “ So, to my place then…!”

The night was passionate…I can still feel it today! That means it was really good…a kiss there, another here….and there…, what can be more arousing than a tongue which is sliding all over a trembling body, looking for erogenous zones, looking although it already knows where they are. Its so mysterious.

I must admit one thing, I like unshaven man, I mean…unshaven down there, but I’ll tell you something, he was as smooth as a baby’s bum.

I let day envy me, because I have a chance of lying in a different man’s hands if not every evening, then every second evening…

By the way…he was a lovely, 28-year-old Estonian and now it’s written on my bag too - “Sexy Bum” - the funny things tend to stick.

IN -1773 DAYS