Once Upon a Summer Night under the Moon in Brussels

biela-dama-na-hojdacke

The moonlight is pouring through the big glass sliding door; the garden is asleep; the whole neighbourhood seems asleep. It is only past eleven in the night of late August, but people in this suburb go to bed early or stay up quietly even on such a hot summer night.

She puts down the on-board-size suitcase and takes in the air of the empty house. All family is still on vacation, she arrived for work. She opens the terrace door and steps out, it feels good to be home. She goes back to the living room once again, takes her mobile phone out of the purse and returns to the terrace. A shriek from a more distant garden, cats, perhaps.

“Diana?”

Somebody on the other end, most probably Diana herself, answers, because she is smiling pleasingly.

“Diana, listen, I am back to Brussels. Just arrived. It was my birthday yesterday, yours was couple of days sooner, how about a little celebration?”

She waits for the answer, and continues:

“Right now, if you like. Would we trust another warm evening in this town? It´s only five minutes’ walk from your apartment. And, wait, I guess I still have a bottle of bubbles in the fridge from Jules´ birthday party a month ago.”

She goes inside and checks. “Yes, a prosecco. Come.”

Diana agrees swiftly, because a sentence follows:

“I will prepare the terrace table.”

She hangs off and busies herself with preparations. A striped table cloth the colours of which are swallowed by the moonlight, a single robust candle, two fluted glasses, a bowl of peanuts.

When Diana rings the bell door a few moments later, all is ready.

“Come, come.” A quick warm embrace. “Good to see you, good to be without the kids and husbands for a change. Go outside, I will bring the bottle.”

She opens the cork skilfully, almost soundlessly; a training from early adulthood girlie bubble drinking sessions.

“The moon is eerie,” Diana comments. It is hung between two tall trees darker than the sky. A perfect whitish sliver, slim.

They toast: “To us.”

“That´s so good.  I mean, to be with you, after the flight…Hmm.”

“Oh yes, absolutely.”

They are at the second glass, chit-chatting about summer, when Diana suggests:

“I had the strangest dream ever last night, and it is not even a full moon. Do you want to hear about my dream?”

“Sure, if it is interesting.” She lights a slim cigarette using the flame of the candle her voice saying she does not trust the dream to be interesting at all. The flame, the moon, and a few stars are the only bright spots. The glittering eyes of the two of them, too, to be precise.

“I guess it is. Listen – it has a message. It tells the story of the beginning of humanity.”

“Oh, fantastic, a dream with a message,” she laughs the second-bubble-glass laughter and readjust her hair in a loose bun.“

So, here it is. A spaceship lands on this planet, it is many years ago. The spaceship full of girls on a trip through galaxies, they were curious, so they landed and stepped out on the Earth. Beautiful creatures, long limbed, with golden hair and blue eyes and no facial or body hair.”

“Oh, really a dream!” she exclaims.

“There were no people yet on the Earth, only apes. And of course, the girls bumped into the ape colonies. And you may guess – the male apes went crazy about them. Completely. They abandoned their females and chased the beauties who didn´t have a chance to get back to the spaceship and leave. And didn´t want to, for the matter. They had fun, and liked these hairy males a lot. And that´s how humans started. We are the crossed breed.”

“Oh, my Diana, that´s simply an erotic dream of a temporarily abandoned woman.”

“Do you think so? Well, you never know.”

They poured the rest of the wine and stayed in the silver light in silence for a long while.

 

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About Katarina

I am a free-lance vini-yoga teacher and a writer. An observer. The city of Brussels keeps me inspired, mainly via its inhabitants. Yoga keeps me focused. And stories teach and amuse...
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