Through An Open Window
I couldn't move. I had turned the car off and was just sitting there. The moment I had looked up, seen through the open window, the familiar silhouette of her, I was stuck, trapped, and unable to look away. I must be under a spell, I must be. Enraptured with the shadowy image inside the upstairs bedroom.
She was fussing with clothes, moving around the room that was surprisingly easy to see from here. Her figure was even more beautiful than I could have imagined and I had thought with the all the figure hugging pencil skirts and jackets she wore I had a good idea of what lay hidden beneath. I was wrong.
I had never thought of her this way. I had never expected anything beyond learning to tolerate her. Now, I felt my world being turned upside down and inside out. I was being stripped bare and left in my own space of nothingness – nothing except her.
No one had ever had this affect on me. I was burning. My breathing became so deep and desperate I thought I would pass out. My knuckles were white against the steering wheel. My fear was palpable. The heat in the vast cabin of this tiny car increased and I was sure I was glowing white with it. How could it be? An accidental glance through an open window had my entire world crumbling. The entire ugly truth and beauty of my hidden down self came steaming forward, obliterating any and all facades in its way.
The dance of the lone figure continued behind the window, oblivious to the black hole that was sucking my entire pretense from me – her whispered image through the open window was more powerful than any magic I had ever heard of.
How is this possible?
I watched as she stopped in front of her mirror and touched her hair and her lips before stepping through the door and leaving the room in darkness. There was no more movement through the window, however here, my world continued to crumble with realization. It was terrifying how far I had already come in these few moments of voyeurism. I was past the point of no return. I was lost to the knowledge of this understanding, this desire, and this truth, as I knew it to be.
It wasn't new, it was just newly recognised.
Now I had to calm my breathing, fight to remember who I was when the car was still running and prepare to walk the short path to her front door. In another few moments I would be stood before her. Would she see the bright flush of desire thrumming through me? Would she recognise the agony and torture of newly discovered love standing before her? Would she?