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First date

By Georgiana Simona Enea Published 3 years ago 3 min read
Photo by Jeff Siepman on Unsplash

First date

2 AM

I have 30 minutes of drive left—thirty minutes of my past.

After 7 hours of continuous driving, I see the sign “Welcome to Braso”.

At first, it’s looking as if I drive on an old stone-paved road, embrace by a deep forest. It is a bit creepy, but if I remember all the nightmares that formed my life until a few minutes ago, it is like a ray of sunshine. Slowly I can see a few houses, then the petrol station and finally the tiny restaurant.

The parking lot seems empty, but it is exactly how I expected to be at the three in the morning. I have to admit that I am a bit nervous. I am just a few steps away from my new house /job /life.

I massage Jo, “I am outside.”

Two minutes past and I am surprised by a strong bear hug. My heart starts racing. It has been so long since I have received any form of affection, and I don’t know how to respond.

“Let’s get inside. It cold!” said Jo, visibly shocked by my lack of response.

“Do you have any other luggage in the truck?” she asked.

“Not just this one”. I replied quickly.

Growing up, Jo was my father best friend. That was before my mother came in to view.

They start reconnecting just a few months before he died. Blond hair, brown eyes, Nordic like futures but very warm.

“Let’s get you to settle, and then we can have a chat.” She says.

I know that is something I have to do, but at this moment, I feel like if we start talking, I’m going to break down. I shake my head, trying to get this anxiety feeling out.

Few steps to the left and I see a white door. I hear some noise in the background, and I know it is Jo talking, but I can’t concentrate good enough to understand what she is saying. The view is impressive like a dream. The little studio has an open space living, the big fluffy carpet in the yellow sofa, everything seems new, even the walls are fresh painted. I can see another two doors. It must be the bathroom and maybe the kitchen?

The bathroom is small, with a shower next to a toilet along with a tiny basin. The kitchen has a few cupboards painted in light beige, a small sink and a few top shelves with different bowls, mugs and other dishes. I can see a small fridge, a toaster and a coffee machine. The place is small but very welcoming. I can feel Jo staring at me, waiting to start.

“I need a moment. Can we talk in the morning? I ask in a small voice.

“Of course, my dear, rest, you are here now, and I do not want to pressure you. I just need to be prepared for what will have the fates arranged for you.” She said.

I closed my eyes. I feel so tired, not just the road but everything that happen in the last week.

“Do you want a glass of wine?” He asks me.

“Yeah, a glass of Merlot, please!” I replied, looking at his impressive collection. It is a bit strange to see someone having a wine collecting passion at 23 years old.

“Can we continue the painting?” I ask, knowing that I am easily distracted.

“Do you still want to finish the painting, or should we try something else? He said in a husky voice.

“After all, this is OUR FIRST DATE.” He said, emphasising the words and looking straight into my eyes. I can feel my face heating up, and I know that it will be all kind of red shades soon enough.

“Can you tell me why you like art and wine?” He asked me, trying to make me loosened up a bit.

I take a few moments to find the answer, waw I never imaging been ask something like this.

“Why do you think I have an interest in wine?” I ask, looking at my glass now half empty.

“ Mabe because I notice how you looked at my collection, how you embrace its flavour before you actually took a sip? Or maybe because of how you use the oil paint to define a drop of rain in that painting, almost as it was alive?

He said, looking at me and reaching his glass at the same time…

I opened my eyes, it was a dream? A memory? Guess I will never know, or I will?

fact or fiction

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