She felt the night was happy under the spell of a rite. The wish of a random fate had gathered them under the gold goddess statues. Listeners, dancers, viewers, lovers, singles, young and old, almost in harmony of sounds. The darkness of the night and the golden light beauty was dominant. She decided to stand on the side of the marble ground that decorated every dancer’s shadow. Each silhouette looked wild dancing freely over the white stones, beautifully shaped by woman's heels. Even the statues, standing still above their heads looked real. Looking almost jealous over the careless dancers undisturbed by each other presence. It was as if the serendipity of a random fait gathered them in that place.
She enjoyed looking at people dancing around her. There was something irresistible to see their body curved in different directions carelessly. They were unknown to each other, strangers connected with the rhythm of music and the rite of their body. Their shadows’ reflection gave a nostalgic look to the old brick walls looking as if they were ready to melt at any moment. The statues above their heads added to the grandiose momentum.
People surrounding her reflected a genuine smile all over her face while repetition of sound seemed to overwhelm the night that almost felt seductive and melancholic. Suddenly she was surrounded by random people, although drunk by the rhythm, she danced with one only. The energy was inevitable to ignore and made her blush of her thoughts. Everything was unruled. The shapes around her distorted light, in harmony. She felt included in something that was randomly and beautiful. Her dance became a prisoner of her feelings, and him, facing her, turned the night into a serendipity.
She did not understand what he said to her, but instinctively felt the strange curiosity painted with young men's testosterone that made her even more attractive.
Can someone fall in love simply when stopping the time for a couple of seconds randomly? What made her attractive, so fast with the speed of light? In a split second she observed so much of herself and him in front of her. She designated no name for it. Nothing was equal to the meaning anyway. The dictionary struggled in limitation when describing the being of that momentum. She memorized his eyes, that where big like an avatar and strangely colored. His movements were slow and gentle. Not a good dancer at all. At times would stump over her toes, apologetic not much in words but with a smile. There was something very peaceful in his entire presence, that suddenly relaxed her.
They observed at each other without looking. It was so abstract, but so true. Her perfume made a cocktail with his fresh aroma from the shower, mixed with the body heat. His lips had sculpted a slightly permanent smile, while he barely spoke. His words were very limited, almost not there. She preferred that indeed. Who needed the words. Both had a way of ignoring things, but details never escaped. Only time escaped, so fast, until suddenly the world between them was interrupted with the same casualty. Serendipity was playing a chess game. He was lost within the crowd while she felt she was looking at no direction in love with the hole rite of that night. A stranger became her love. Such love had an endless ending. It was not the eternity that made love but something else, more simple. Maybe, just maybe, love belonged only to the seconds. After all the world was full of serendipity.
Fatjona R. Lubonja ©