How strange to enter a cathedral late at night (because you heard trumpet music wildly magnified by the arches) just to find a lover from eight years before waiting there.
What can you say then, surrounded by the melodic screams of the ten trumpets forming the unknown band?
“I never expected to see you wearing such beautiful clothes,” I say during the conversation.
I was wearing pretty nice stuff myself: black derby shoes, black stockings, a velvet dress, a nice gray coat, hands in my pockets.
“How were these eight years for you?”
“Infinite. Sometimes I felt that they will never end.”
“Yet we are here, now.”
“You don’t understand. I’m through with youth.”
“We both are.”
“And yet you look younger than the last time I saw you.”
“It must be this silly dress.”
She laughed, then disappeared.