The Stranger and His Dancer and Tempest.
Drawn in toned paper and edited for highlights
I saw a man sitting across the street, alone on the sidewalk. He was dressed in a fancy suit, yale blue coat and saddle brown pants, "Seems odd but I actually quite liked it, those colors really suited his tan complexion".
Intrigued about what he was up to, I further observed. He carried tulips and baby breaths, another odd combination, but it worked. He also had chocolates with him. It was a bit cliche, but rather sweet.
As I watched him, his glow started fading. He waited, 30 minutes, 1 hour, 2 hours. He seemed to be losing motivation. He dropped the flowers and rested the chocolate on the sidewalk. He stayed there for a little while, typing on his phone. I assumed he was probably talking to the woman he was waiting for. But after a while, it seemed like she wasn't answering.
The man got up from the sidewalk and crossed the street to the coffee shop where I was sitting. A quite handsome lad, maybe in his middle 20s. Then, I later on noticed that the flowers and chocolates were gone. "Ah, maybe the trash have already received it." He ordered a hot americano, "Not a fan of sweet coffee aren't we, gentleman?" He sat at the table beside me, still not taking his eyes off the street. "Seems like he had loss that motivation but not the hope, I guess?" I couldn't help but notice some stains on his tie, "Maybe, the coffee..." but I quickly realized they were tears . "Oh, that was one gloomy face".
I could not help but write...
"Drops of liquid crystal from his eyes,
running down his serene face,
What a way to describe a man,
An epitome of living grace,
compared to a carved relic,
He can be a modern David,
But there he was, being at the mercy of Cupid"
Anyway, back to my business of minding his business. I can tell that he is actually fond of jewelries, he wore a lot of rings. The designs were intricate and unique, not the ones you would find in a regular jewelry shop. I was staring at his rings when he suddenly looked up and caught me staring. I quickly pretended to sketch something, hoping he wouldn't notice me. "Oh shit, I did not mean to stare, although yes, I've been staring for quite a while now, who the hell would not feel that?" still scribbling this and that "Shit, I don't think this is going to cut it, but yeah, let's just pretend to draw this mug"
He stood up, I did not look, footsteps were near, but I kept my head down, then I saw someone sat on an empty chair in front of me. "Oh, look Mr. David", still having this inner monologue. He complimented my sketch, to which I knew that there is no way that this mug would look beautiful, and because I could not draw very well as I was minding his business for quite some time now, but the words that I said was just, "Thanks, just to pass some time"
We started talking, and he told me he was a professional jewelry designer. Well, that explains those rings, "That is awesome, pretty cool to me" I don't know why but my vocabulary just drop dead in front of him. There was silence, he looked again outside where there happened to be street performers. "I wonder what made them chose dancing for passion", Mr. David really is odd, he tells me what he does for a living then suddenly here we are with a different topic, but I really don't mind this. "I don't know, maybe it's the same thing that made you chose the jewelry and such, and maybe because they are really not into working in the corporate "
How about you, what do you do for a living?
"Oh, I'm in the corporate" we burst into laughing.
"Don't tell me you wanted to be a dancer?"
"No, Mr. David, spare me with that"
Silence.
"Mr. David?"
"Anyway, I think dancers were versatile, they fit unseemingly in the rigid and sharp world where redundancy is a common practice, they were the pieces which stays different and free."
"I know, the person that I was actually waiting is very much into dancing -
"Dancing gracefully, she takes the floor,
With finesse, she always soars,
She created graceful lines as she moves,
an abstract, that she etched,
I even remember every stretch.
Her body speaks what words cannot,
She often tells a story but I was lost in every plot,
The rythmn followed her,
She leads the way with that flowing dress,
I took those steps which led to her,
That twirl and leap, every spin,
Luring you to commit into her like a sin,
Only to be forgiven and punished for being vain,
For having thought of keeping her in a music box,
Within my possession were the locks,
And to dance for me until forever,
No doubt, this made me a sinner.
All the while all of this were but a dark desire,
In reality she cannot be contained,
She is graceful but her passion is reckless."
"She was two different things at the same time, a dancer and a tempest. One rendered me guilty, and the other acquitted ".
The conversation ended, we said our goodbyes, and Mr. David left. I did not bother to ask his name nor him asking for mine. Nevertheless, it was a pleasant encounter.