Teardrops are a collection of short, slightly sad stories (but remember, there are tears of joy and of love), that exist for a brief moment before they are wiped, and shed every Sunday. Or when they are ready, whichever comes last...


by Antheros

I should have sat closer to him, but the room is full, and I was late. Damn. If I had arrived only five minutes earlier. At least I can see him well. Does he like me? It seemed so, when we were talking before. But he hasn't said a word about me... He is good looking. Fancy shirt. I should not stare too much. What is that woman talking about now? Oh, still the same thing. I'm not missing anything, good. He is so restless, always stirring in the chair. His head moves from here to there all the time. His eyes... God he saw me staring. Pretend not to be doing anything, quick, look away. Is he still looking at me? Just look ahead for a while. I should have sat behind him, in a way that I could stare as much as I wanted, and noticed if he ever looked at me. He is looking ahead again, I see. I can see him with the corner of my eye, but only a blur, I can't see where he is looking at. Maybe he knows I'm looking at him. He must know, dumb me, he caught me. He has pretty lips, I'd love him to kiss me. Imagine that, when we leave the room, he taking me apart to a quiet corner, pushing me against the wall, waiting just a moment, his entire body against mine, pressing me to the wall, and then he kisses me. I think I probably wouldn't resist. He'd think I am a slut. I'm not. I have to behave. If he was closer, I'd pull my skirt up so he could see my legs, but if I do that now, only that awful man sitting behind me will see it. Maybe he likes me, aw, I don't even want to think about this man. Let me take a look at him, again. He seems to be paying attention. Perhaps he has a girlfriend. Probably. But I could be his... God, what am I thinking? He's so nice... The way he was talking before, that short remark. I just shut up, I've never been abroad, but the way he said it... He must have traveled all over the world. He said it bluntly, just to make a point, remarkably annoyed that the subject was still in discussion. I just stood there, he was not looking at me, maybe he didn't notice. I wish I was prettier. Really pretty. I could have a chance then. He did look at my legs, didn't he? I think so. Maybe I'm just fooling myself. Men look at any girl's pair of legs. Did he like them? No, probably not. I should never have stopped dancing. Maybe if I start to go to a gym. He didn't eat anything, and only replied politely to my joke, when he saw me eating a candy bar. Maybe he thinks I'm fat. I could loose a few pounds. Damn, he caught me looking again. Am I blushing? I'll cover my cheek with my hand, as if I was just getting more comfortable and resting my head on it. Like that. Maybe that won't be so bad, maybe he'll come later and say that he noticed I was looking, and it'll be so embarrassing, but then he'll ask me out. How will he do that? Oh, fool, he's not asking you out. If he knew... Better not. Could I ask him? No, I could never gather courage. Maybe he didn't like my outfit, I spent so much time picking it... Maybe I should have worn something that showed more of my body, less prude. Or at least that suggested... I wish I had a Barbie-body. No woman has that body. Except Judith. She does. I wish I had her body. Her body is so perfect. I bet if Judith was here he would be all over her. I'm glad she's not. And there's that damn brunette that is talking, he is paying too much attention to her. Maybe he likes her. She's prettier than me. And she talks well. Bitch. He glances in my direction, oh, it's not at me that he's glancing, that other guy is asking a question. Well, at least he didn't catch me a third time. Talk about embarrassing. If he did, I couldn't steal glances at him anymore. Perhaps he saw me... That bitch is answering the question. I look at him. Suddenly he smiles. Why? Did she say something funny? No one else is smiling. Did he notice I was looking at him again? Damn! He knows I'm staring at him all the time. He's laughing. Is he laughing at me? Does he think I'm desperate? I hate that. Can't he just ask me out? Maybe I could mention a place, say that I'd love to go there. Oh, he'd get it at once. So lame... And he probably is used to fancy places. But he also throws glances at me, now and then. Maybe he does like me. Please, God, make he ask me out. How far should I go on the first date? I think only kiss lightly, when he takes me home. He'd take me home. I want to taste his lips. But just one kiss. Maybe if I let him steal... No, he'll be romantic, say something nice, and then I'll notice that we are whispering for a while and that I can feel his hot breath near me, and that all he has to do is to lean a little, and... What is going on? Oh, that bitch is talking again. I thought something had happened. I'm not following a word they are saying. Who cares. He'll not ask me out. But he does come to talk to me, like that time when he was going I don't know where and I was coming in the opposite direction, and he stopped, started to talk to me and turned around, following me. I liked that. He talked softly, asking about me. What time is it... What, only seven minutes have passed so far? Shit, this will be a long afternoon. Isn't he staring at me again?

10 Jul 2005