A Long Night

In summer I usually visit this river more often.

A lot of young girls around my age with or without their boyfiends and friends, they carry rattan baskets full of Baguettes bread or cakes and a few jars of blueberry jam and boxes of fresh green grapes. Don't forget a few liters of orange juice in beautiful glass bottles. Along with a wine glass and a cake mat made of porcelain. A carpet whose material is more like a cloth that is neither thick nor too thin with a pattern is one of the things that must be brought.

Enjoying the warmth of the sun that rarely visits, and the strong wind that gives natural freshness makes anyone feel at home for a long time here. Some girls are even willing to cycle with a beach hat on their head just to make this aesthetic picnic a reality.

Too bad I have to go home and end the beauty of this world in front of me, because my mother called repeatedly, and I have to answer it at home. She always told me to come home and eat with the family on the weekends. I really really avoid this tradition, because they will only ask about my job and my partner which I don't even have.

I deliberately slowed my pace, dragged my feet if I could, or floated around like a drunk person, anything to make me late home and pretend I didn't pick up the phone. Yes, my hands ended up on the cellphone that I accidentally put on flight mode and I opened the Music app Spotify, and put earphones in my ears.

A melancholic French song. " Pour que tu m'aimes encore " by Céline Dion had my wish granted. I paused from one street lamp to another, hugged him, pulled my arms between his body and leaned half back. A show a romantic dance that tells the legend of the world between Romeo and Juliette has begun.

The show ended at 01.05 in the morning when I saw a magnificent building where a man I knew was standing in front of it.

Suddenly my feet sped up quickly towards the man who was even still busy at this hour while arranging the chairs in between. I don't know what I was thinking, I deliberately pulled one of the benches that he had arranged and sat beside him. He was surprised because it was already early in the morning and I disturbed the closing time. I picked up a cigarette that fell on the street a few meters before this fancy cafe. I deliberately borrowed a lighter from him and burned the tip of this cigarette in front of him. I don't know what I mean, I've never even smoked, but part of me says Dorian will hate me when he sees this. Even though I haven't heard the expression of his feelings, I've already turned it off. A little too much to be honest. Oh already what else to do. I've been messed up and crazy.

Several times I blew this billowing smoke up like a professional smoker. It's really bitter and embarrassing. I don't even want to go out tomorrow morning.

I pulled a chair beside me and pulled his arm that had been standing against the wall while sighing and repeatedly glanced at his watch.

I jolted out of my chair, when Dorian suddenly got angry because I forced him a little, saying in a loud tone

" tu es fou, je t'ai dit de ne pas le faire, va-t'en "

( are you crazy? I don't want to sit, Go ! )

This is the first time i hear it sound. I was coughing choking on the smell of my own cigarette. Silence and awkwardness just created.

" Hufftt.. what a julll you have done, you must be really crazy "

When I was just thinking of leaving, he sat next to me.

" Elephantiasis has just been diagnosed on my ass "

I was immediately shocked and forgot what I just did

" what ??? "

While holding back laughter, we finally faced each other, it turned out that he was quite tall compared to me, the nameplate on his right chest had begun to peel off.

And without shame we laughed with a tone that was arranged.

" Ha ha ha ha .. "

With our faces that are still surprised and embarrassed.

Before Dorian felt awkward, I stood up and soap left the dark cafe.

This is not something to laugh about but somehow it's funny.

While smiling I walked towards the lobby. Surprised for the second time, a woman dressed neatly like a British royal nanny stood near the stairs. Her gaze was like a mother who caught her child coming home late and ready to grab my hair.

Walking a few steps she seemed to be babbling something like " Lady of the Night ".

Looks like she saw me smoking and laughing dorian. I quickly turned to her and handed her the last ten euros that had my red lips stamped.

Arriving at the apartment I plopped down on the floor with my legs and arms open like a victim of a crime drawn by the police. I'm surprised by that woman's style of dress so early.

" Hufftt ... What a tiring day "