Awake
Jean-Michel sipped some water and typed.
“You know, when I’m in the tube I often see this woman…”
A new line appeared on his screen.
“Ah, you’re going to talk to me about another woman now? Do I have to be jealous?” Gabrielle typed next.
“Ha ha ha, no…!”
“So?”
“You see, it depends on the time… But sometimes she’s there. She’s elegant and quite attractive, and I fantasize it’s you.”
“I’m not sure I like this, lol.”
“Hey! I mean I think, imagine that woman is her. Gabrielle. What if?”
“What if what?”
“What if it was you, silly. What if it turned out we saw each other every day and didn’t know.”
“Hm. You know, now that you tell me, there’s this guy…”
“Oh?”
“Yes. And it’s in the tube, too!”
“No way.”
“Yes. Tall, scruffy like you described yourself. I find it… handsome?”
“Oh, that’s you taking your revenge.”
“Lol. No, sorry. I just notice him from time to time. Not everyday, I suppose it depends on the train. But now I will think of you when I see him…”
“Well, I cannot complain. I started the fantasy…”
“Yes. But we cannot meet…”
“I know, I know. I agreed on the rules. It’s only…”
“What?”
“After all this time… I love you. There. I had to say it.”
“…”
“Are you alright? Sorry, sorry. Now I’m afraid, I don’t want to lose you, and it’s OK if you don’t love me, but I just needed to tell you. And I don’t want you to be uncomfortable…”
“Stop.”
“…”
“It’s not that. I love you too.”
“You do?”
“Of course I do. And you know it.”
“I… I hoped.”
“This is absurd.”
“It is.”
“But I love you. If it’s not love, I don’t know what it is.”
“I… I feel the same.”
***
Paris is lovely in springtime. Parks and gardens bustle with new life, and a explosion of colours greets her citizens and visitors.
But in the middle of the night, even the City of Light sleeps. Or does she?
Because there’s this house in a corner, where one window is lit. We peer inside, and Jean-Michel is writing on his computer, a smile in his face. And only two blocks away, down the same street, the gentle breeze from the Seine enters through a second window, and caresses Gabrielle’s hair.
Tomorrow morning, they will see each other in the tube, on their way to work. Jean-Michel will peek at the elegant, attractive woman and think of Gabrielle, and he will smile. Gabrielle will notice the tall, scruffy man, and she will smile too.
They will step off the train on different stations.
Tomorrow night, they will chat again.
Writer friend Janice Leagra tweeted the above image and wondered what was going on behind those windows. I had this idea and finally sat down to write it.
