Black and white
Many people have fantasies, and they hardly ever speak about them. Because they are intimate, but also often embarrassing. A fantasy in the dark of night seems very exciting, and can lead someone into a completely new experience. In broad daylight however, this fantasy quickly seems childish, or silly. Especially in the eyes of others. So they are hidden away, deep down at the bottom of the well that we call our sole.
It was a beautiful sunny day I went out for a walk in the nearby park. I love to go out, and enjoy the spring air, the abundant green, the flowers emerging from their winter sleep. As I was walking I caught sight of a young woman, she was sitting on a bench, reading a book. I cannot deny I found her wonderful, such delicacy and fine features. A great body, that was packed in a really beautiful dress. I slowed my pace, as to take in the sight more clearly. But I could not just stand there and stare at her beauty.
So, I did the unthinkable. I sat down beside her, saying a mumbled hello as to justify my presence. This is not something I regularly do. I know, with my age, heading for 50 one might think I am one of those frustrated men, looking for a new chance in life. After spoiling the first one, finding marriage to hard, not able to find pleasure in day to days affairs of living together. As I was sitting there you might have constructed a complete image of me, my failures, my frustrations. And maybe even my fantasies. But I have to disappoint you, it is very different from what you might imagine. I am a well-respected man, have a happy family and hardly do anything that might raise an eyebrow. I think, if you knew the truth, you would find me dull. But now you see, it is your own imagination, your own fantasy that is playing tricks on you. So let us return to the dull man, sitting on that bench, right next to the girl in white. How long could I sit there, and steal some sideway glances without arousing suspicion of my true intention. Not long, but luckily I had a book in my pocket. So I took it out, and took my time to find the page I was reading now. During that process I could complete my inspection of her. It was a dress, ending just above the knee, a delicate white, with accents of more white, giving a special accent to the hem of the dress, the waist and around her neck. The dress was all closed, but there was a transparent patch, over the front of the dress from the ribbon around her neck to the top of her breasts. The shoulders were more or less bare, showing her beautiful arms. I could not see her hands, they were covered by the book she was reading. But no doubt they would be delicate and tempting. There was no way I would read a letter, sitting there. I could feel her being next to me, I could feel vibrations from her body towards the world. I could see she wasn’t just a girl, she was a young woman with a purpose in life. What a contrast with myself, the boring and dull man. I was so grey and so invisible, I don’t think she even spotted me sitting there. I was a nobody, but that is life for me. So when she finally stood up, and walked off I could look at her stride, the elegant high heeled shoes, her naked feet, and the beautiful, sorry for the word, ass. I thought I would choke then and there. A sheer sight of beauty, now walking away from me. The white angel leaving me in my own little grey world.
I stayed for some time on that bench, as to give myself an alibi for being there in the first place. Sometimes you have the feeling you have to justify yourself, in case, someone might see you, and wonder. That is the danger of being always between the lines, of moral righteousness. You become predictable, avoid any danger, any excitement. So, after 5 minutes of staring at the book, and absently turning the pages, but definitely not reading I stood up. And walked out of the park. Back into my normal life again.
At home, that night, all was normal. The Lady of the house had cooked us a meal, out little family of 4, united at the table. The night slipping in through the windows, a little storytelling time for the children, peacefully sleeping in their cots. Then the coffee, made by me. Little sips of wonderful dark liquid. The sensation of a wonderful taste, spreading from mouth to mind. Warm, dark, deep. The night, sleep comes fast. Two bodies in a bed, lying next to each other. Bodies that have forgotten how to caress each other, how to enjoy each other. Casual kisses are exchanged, breathing gets deeper and deeper until sleep enters. The silence of the night is taking over. All is forgotten, the day, any excitement is being covered under the blanket of sleep.
In the night, the mind is free. Under the cover of sleep the mind is liberated, and probes in all the edges, every abyss is tried. And then all of a sudden, there is this flash of a bench in a park, a white dress. He seems to be floating through that park, towards the bench, towards the whiteness, a blinding shimmer. When the white dress starts to move away from the bench, over the grass, he is following it. He closes his eyes, as being summoning up his courage, and when he opens his eyes he suddenly sees. A black dress, bare legs, an ass barely covered yet accentuated.
All his inhibitions fall away, all his barriers are coming crashing down. All of a sudden there is this surge of desire. So long, hibernated, ignored, yet this vision releases him. Shows him the true beauty, of a body, of a relation, of life. It is like being ignited, energy bursting though his veins. His sight is clouded, like by a sudden fog. His eyes try to break this fog, in order to see. Again. When it does she flashes there again, but now revealing her body in full. He cannot believe his eyes, this vision is beyond words. He wants to move, to act, run and kneel, glorify this angel.
When all of a sudden he is awake, the sun shining in the room, his children pulling at his blankets. “Daddy, can we please watch television?”
Model: Aurore Novellati
Photographer: Otto Focus and Hold
