Monday, November 05, 2007

Gimikera


Photo credits to anchelayap

It had been a long week. A need to unwind was on her mind. A phone call here and a phone call there with quick text messages in between it was set.

There she was with her tall athletically toned frame with every privilege beauty bestowed. A ruffled white mini added to the sensuality of her long tanned legs. A lavender halter highlighting her broad and yet feminine shoulders. A bikini line on her back was barely visible. Not that it mattered since it was too dark to for anyone to notice. Her doll-like face only served to amplify her stunning chinky eyes with lavender mascara - but just a little. One can never be TOO beautiful.

She enters the stuffy club room - the walls pounding to the House beat of DJ Kaskade. The stench was a mix of cigarette smoke on cotton and men's cologne. This is going to stick when I get home. She thought not noticing her expensive perfume, her nose now immune, was strong enough to project her presence in the club - a sweet and pleasant smell probably mixed with pheromones in the chemicals.

An occasional familiar face here and there and an exchange of pretentious kisses, smiles, nods and idle chatter follows. Of course, anyone this beautiful is bound to have "friends" - many of them.

Her friends find a comfortable table space to unwind while a part of her group leaves to survey the dance floor. She stands behind - just a little beside - her girlfriend and leans over mumbling something while absentmindedly and discreetly scanning the room at the corner of her eyes. Her all too pretentious smile tries to hide the deep instinctive thought that someone might notice her. A familiar face? An ex-boyfriend? Some good looking hunk to while away the evening? And maybe, just maybe, if her better judgment or otherwise permits it, perhaps all the way until morning.

She sees someone in the crowd... waving at her... calling out her name but she can only read his lips saying her name.

She excuses herself. She walks away with an elegant gait and disappears beyond the crowd, beyond the fog and beyond the smoke. Perhaps the dance floor for starters? A drink or maybe two?

It had been just another night out at the club. This is where the party begins...

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