The Beginend

He glances at the crowd with mild panic.

She looks at him for the second time and looks away.

Curious glances. Stealthy smiles.

The drug is etching faded shadows on an acrylic canvas in her mind. The vague shapes seem closer than before. They're zooming right by her.

They smile. His subtleties are surreal. Her laughter is so real. She speaks more than she would to a stranger. He awakens the lust of the warriors in her. He is magnanimous and a little disconnected. Just the right amount. They talk and it's suddenly night time. They kiss and it's morning. But he has to go. There is that quality about them. The one that everyone longs for. The one that's not quantifiable. It rages, waits to be heard and finds expression between them again and again. Suddenly he remembers, why he'd rather not be with her. It's a struggle to stay, it's so easy to go. She doesn't know what's gotten over him. But she knows that it's time to let go. She fights it but knows it should be done. She asks him to leave. The heartbreak is soundless, but its tremors are felt at every point where her pulse throbs. She thinks back to the time she first laid eyes on him. It was just a photo.

She is jerked awake by the motion of the car. They are en route, the destination still far away. The drug has worn off. And along with it the hallucination.