A Study

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic


A Study

 

It was a Wednesday, I believe midday; a warm summer’s day. Other than being a pleasant warm summer’s day, there was nothing special about it; nothing especially good and nothing especially bad, just a Wednesday, in summer, at about midday.

 I sat at a small round table in the curved bay window of a cafe, which afforded a pleasant view of the village square beyond. Not a particularly busy village square, being a Wednesday, at possibly midday, but a pleasant aspect non the less.

 My view of the pleasant, though not very busy village square was however, suddenly obscured by a person standing directly in front of the curved bay window. I could still see the not very busy village square beyond this person; the person being less in width than the curved bay window, but it was this person that my eyes had rested upon, with no attempt at looking beyond her.

 Her! Yes it was a female that had planted herself before me, with only the glass of the curved bay window between us. In black this female was; all in black, contrasting severely with the freshly painted white of the curved bay window and the bright, colourful village square beyond. A slim, tall pillar of black; her back toward me; her hands to her sides; still as a tall pillar of black may be expected to be. But she wasn’t just a tall pillar of black, she was a woman and so would be expected to make some movement at some point. So my eyes stayed fixed on this tall pillar of black; this woman before me, with just the glass of the curved bay window between us; waiting for that inevitable movement.

 The more I studied this woman in black, the more my anticipation grew for her to move, for she may turn and face me and taking into account what I had already seen of her, this would, I was sure, present a very pleasing aspect. What was it about this woman that had prompted such anticipation? Allow me to paint a little picture. I would say she was somewhere between five and six feet tall, possibly nearer the latter. She was very slim; her long black hair laid with a loose curl upon her shoulders and across the upper part of her back. She wore a black, well fitted blouse, the material of which afforded an obscured view of the black slip she wore beneath. This blouse was neatly tucked into the snug fitting black skirt she wore, that travelled down, in an almost straight line, to just above her knees, under which disappeared a pair of black stockings. At first I could not see below this line, for the sill of the curved bay window prevented me doing so. Having seen this far however, I felt compelled to see the shoes she wore. I leant across the small round table, on pretence of retrieving some condiment or other and by so doing, was given a brief view of a pair of black heeled shoes, giving that added height I had already noticed. 

 I sat back in my chair and continued my study of this woman in black; this tall pillar of black that still had not moved. My eyes were drawn to the slip, slightly obscured you will remember, beneath her blouse. Do not get me wrong, I am not ordinarily inclined to go around peering at women’s slips, or anything else they may be wearing, but on this occasion, I confess, I did make quite a study of her black slip. Maybe it was the fact it was slightly obscured that made me study it so; just as we may study, more intently, many things we cannot at first see clearly; to get a better view as it were.

 I don’t know how long she remained in this stationary state, with me studying her slip, while sipping my tea. All I do know is, I was totally familiar with every aspect of the said garment, albeit only the rear aspect. This would indicate that the blouse was less obscuring than I had at first thought. It is surprising what we can see when we really look; what at first may seem quite obscured, may in fact, be clearly visible. We do not, I guess, always have the opportunity to take our time to look properly at what is in front of our eyes; but thankfully, on this occasion, I was given the opportunity and indeed took full advantage of it.

 I recalled my study of this woman’s slip continuing for some considerable time, but on reflection, it may have been a much briefer period of time.. It may be that my memory had slowed the whole episode, so as to have a much longer recollection of the event. Our mind, I think, can be inclined to sometimes do this. Whatever the duration of the event, I do remember wondering as to the women’s motive for placing herself in such a position. Was she simply looking out over the quiet village square, as I had been doing from my side of the curved bay window; was she waiting for someone, with maybe a view to coming into the the establishment, of which she currently stood in front of; maybe something in the quiet village square had arrested her attention; or maybe, however unlikely, she had stood in front of the curved bay window, knowing I was sitting just the other side of the glass panes, so that I may admire her, or even make a study of her black slip, knowing of course, it would be visible beneath the blouse she had chosen to wear.

 I entertained the last reason for a while, as I found that the most pleasing to myself, if not a little curious on her part; but I had to concede one of the former reasons was far more likely. But such is life, we can still invent our own reasons for things if we so wish and hold onto that reason for as long as possible, before reality has its way.

 You may be saddened, or pleased to know, depending on your take of my conduct, that I was destined never to know her reason for standing in front of the curved bay window and I was also destined never to realise my anticipation of her turning to face me. I was momentarily distracted by the young waitress bringing over my bill and once that distraction had been dealt with, the women in black had gone! Just as quickly as she had appeared, she had disappeared . 

 I spent a few minutes more at the small round table, in front of the curved bay window, looking out over the not very busy village square. In my mind however, I still saw the woman in black; the tall pillar of black and the black slip she wore under the slightly obscuring blouse.

 

The End

 


Submitted: January 06, 2021

© Copyright 2021 H W Lustre. All rights reserved.

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