(Another small thing I wrote in February; Yarn stories will follow, I have knit a lot, but I don’t have the headspace to write about it at the moment. Please bear with me.)
The Day We Didn’t Kiss
It was raining that day, and yet, we didn’t kiss.
The reason why I am explicitly stating this is that we went swimming while it was raining, and that we were naked, but we didn’t kiss. We didn’t even touch each other in the slightest.
Well – this is not quite true. Our fingertips touched, but briefly.
Maybe I should explain how I got into the water in the first place.
I had over-socialised and felt empty. When I got up, the sound of pouring rain filled the little hut, and I declined an invitation for waffles in the community centre ‘where everyone would be’. I drank my coffee, leaning against the counter and looking out of the window.
A decision formed in my head.
I put my mug away and stepped out. A few steps brought me to the shore of the lake our huts grouped around. Nobody was to be seen.
I stripped naked and, before I could chicken out, plunged into the water.
So cold.
But only for a few moments.
I had never been swimming in the rain, and I had never swum naked, but now I was paddling out onto the lake, raindrops above me, the lake under me.
I turned onto my back, spread my arms wide and closed my eyes.
Then I became one with the rain.
The water surrounded me, caressing my body, kissing my face with a thousand raindrops. My thoughts emptied into the lake.
No one was there.
Only the rain.
Silence.
Suddenly, something touched my fingertips, and I gasped, and swallowed a load of water.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you!”
Coughing, I wiped the water from my eyes and looked into her face – she was genuinely concerned. Worried even.
“You’re alright?”
Her hair was tied up in a bun.
“Yeah. I just didn’t expect anybody.”
I was treading water. So was she. Her hair was as wet as mine.
“I’ve never been swimming in the rain”; she said, her eyes suddenly shining, “and I just needed some peace and quiet.”
I raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Sounds just like me.”
She nodded and seemed to ponder something. “Shall we enjoy it together?”, she asked, “the peace and quiet, I mean?”
I smiled. I had to. We grinned at each other, there in the water, the rain pouring down upon us, and I nodded. She turned onto her back and stretched out her arms, and I saw that she had no clothes on, just as I. She saw me looking at her.
“What?!”
I shook my head and laid back, arms outstretched. I closed my eyes.
Silence.
Except it was different than before. There was another, a separate entity beside me, but funnily enough, it didn’t bother me. My ears filled with water again.
No one was there but us.
Only the rain.
And then we heard the thunder.
I opened my eyes and looked into the sky – the clouds had darkened considerably, and another thunder was rolling towards us.
“I think we should get out.”
I looked at her, and she nodded. Side by side, we swam to the shore, swiftly, but not racing each other. We grabbed our clothes and ran towards my hut, seeking shelter under the roof, shivering. We were cold again. We smiled at each other, and went inside and had tea.
So there.
It was raining that day, and yet, we didn’t kiss.
(© Julia Müller, 02.02.2018)