A Memory of Red

I smiled as I kissed her- I couldn't believe it. I knew what red looked like.

Eventually, the cool air of spring night started us shivering as the heat of sex left us, and she retrieved my coat so we could cuddle underneath it, holding on to each other. We talked about what had just happened, and she helped me list things I knew were supposed to be red: fire engines, apples, raspberries and strawberries, freshly kissed lips and flesh… it went on and on.

"Are you a redhead?" I asked excitedly.

"No, I'm sorry," Sarah replied. "I'm what you would call a strawberry blonde. There's a little red in my hair, but not much."

I smooched her wetly. "I don't mind… you're the one who made me remember it to begin with."

She was silent for a few moments. I wasn't sure, but there seemed to be something about it that unnerved her. Fortunately, it passed and we laid there for a long while afterwards, basking in the glow of our lovemaking.

But the inevitable moment came when we had to get up and leave our cozy spot. I found my clothes right where she said she put them and dressed slowly, not wanting the night to end. Percy had been incredibly silent through the whole event- as much noise as Sarah and I had made, he couldn't have been sleeping. I had to give him credit- he was a very patient companion.

We walked back to the path hand-in-hand, Sarah resting her head on my shoulder as we meandered lazily along. The concert had ended some time ago, and we heard the occasional shouts and laughter of small groups of friends passing by, chattering and singing some of the songs they'd heard.

When we reached the park exit, we had to part, our separate homes in different directions now.

"Can I see you again?" I asked, reaching out to stroke her hair.

"No, you can't. But you can hear me again. And if you can touch me again, too."

"Cheeky!" I laughed, pulling her tight to me. "Do you know Hubert's Café by the library?"

"Uhm-hm."

"How about Monday, four o'clock? I can get you that cup of coffee you didn't want earlier."

"Sounds wonderful." I could hear the pleasure in her voice, and felt her smile buried in my neck.

After a long, deep kiss good-bye, I felt Sarah's hand slip away, fingers touching 'til the last, and then her footsteps disappeared into the sounds of the late night traffic. I stayed put for several minutes, facing the direction she'd headed, a smile plastered on my face, half-wondering if she looked back as she went away.

When I got home that night, I slept more soundly than I had in my entire life, dreaming of her voice.

*************

The waitress comes by four more times in the next while, needlessly triple checking on me. I ordered a bowl of soup at 5:00. It's 5:30 now, and my nervousness has gone. I'm heartsick, the soup cold in front of me.

I don't know whether to be worried or not. What if something happened to her? Was she all right?

Or did she just change her mind about me? I've tried to dismiss such thoughts as paranoid in the last hour. But whatever the reason, it's becoming painfully clear that she's not coming.

Suddenly I hear the light, clicking steps of a female approaching my table, and a familiar lavender scent wafts over to me. I straighten up expectantly, but the woman passes by without slowing down. I shake it off… the scent was all wrong anyways. There was none of the delightful vanilla mixed in with it, and Sarah didn't wear heels. At least, she didn't the night I was with her.

Percy chuffs again as he gets up to stretch, obviously wanting to move along. We've been here long enough, haven't we? I can hear him thinking. He's probably hungry, not having eaten since early this morning.

I don't want to go. I want to sit here and wait for a little longer. All I can think of is the possibility that I might leave, only to have her rush in a few minutes later to find me gone.

No. I have to admit it to myself, have to accept it. She's not coming.

I reach into my wallet and pull out a bill with a triangular fold on the corner- a ten. I leave it on the table, and Percy and I walk out. We pass by a vendor selling fresh fruit and vegetables, and I ask him for the best apple in his bunch. I give him some change, and he hands me the fruit. I bite into its sweet flesh, red flashing in my mind.

I want to feel good about it. I want to enjoy it. But all I can think of is Sarah.

As we make for home, my face is becoming wet, and I wish God had seen fit to destroy my tear ducts along with the rest of my eyes.

Author's Note: Although it got more involved, this was written as an experiment, to "see" if the erotic experience of a character who was missing a major sense could be lucidly described. Please let me know if that has been accomplished, in your opinion. For those of you enjoyed Chapter 1 of my first story, Miss Nova, thank you so much for the great feedback, and Chapters 2 and 3 are in the works!