blue silk

'Orange was the colour of her dress, then blue silk'. That is the name of this Jazz tune by Charles Mingus that i have been listening to a lot lately. This is what happens....i think.

It’s a rainy Saturday afternoon you see…absolutely pouring it down and she is running down the street. She is soaked, her hair is wet and sticky; her dress almost transparent; you can see the lining of her hips and the shape of her beautiful breasts. And she is carrying shopping bags, loads of them. Her legs are delicate and a small pond of rain-water forms around them as she walks into the coffee shop. First thing she does, takes a pack of smokes out of her tiny bag and lights up a cigarette. I mean she does not even look around. She has no acknowledgement for anyone else. She is looking outside where the rain keeps falling and people keep running. A few minutes pass like this. Quietly people are staring at the rain as its sound is arguing with the music coming from the shop’s old speakers. Then she slowly turns around, picks up her bags and walks over to the counter. A cup of steaming coffee is what she is having, and another cigarette. It had been such a warm, sunny afternoon she is thinking, she despises rain. Romantic-dreamer’s stuff….that’s what she thinks about rain. Herself is not into romance; her heart was once broken by a romantic dreamer you see. Now it’s all about different things. What if she is actually only pretending to hate rain and fairy-tale stuff? No..can’t be….Although...a gentle whisper of sadness floats around her exquisite face.
Suddenly the rain stops and the sun is back at all its glory. She stands up and walks out the door. Just like that. She has not even touched her coffee. As she is passing by the window the sun strokes her from the side.

Blue silk…underneath an orange summer dress.

Charles is sitting at the corner, by the window thinking about jazz. He gets up and walks out of the door. It smells like rain.