A Close Encounter

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
This short story expresses the frustration and loss of dignity experienced when illictly crossing the boundary line between friends and lovers with someone you know deep down you cannot adore

Submitted: November 29, 2008

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Submitted: November 29, 2008

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“Let’s go crazy” she said, excitement flowering in her eyes with the first few bars of an upbeat Brand New Heavies track, written some 4 years after they had anything to offer. She kicks off shoes and bounds onto the bed in the hope we will hold hands and look into each others eyes, mouths stretched in gleeful grins as we cavort like children.
 
With some embarrassment for her vulnerability I explain that I don’t do that sort of thing. How is she to know, the unthinking inheritor of generations of euro-pop and a less reserved tradition of self-expression, that I mean no harm and am not in fact wilfully trampling her delicate flowers into the ground?
 
She looks disappointed, her thoughts reading like sub-titles - “but I want a man who is expressive and free” - thoughts she quickly dismisses in the fear of not finding such a man and in the hope that I will be the one to end the long drought of her lovelessness.
 
A sweet Finnish girl, blond and blue and athletically stunning. Truthfully she was just my friend. Someone I treasured and trusted but just a friend. No fire burned for her in any hidden part of me, but when she had crept into my room the previous night in not very many nightclothes and asked to cuddle I didn’t have the heart to say no to a few hours of comfort, which would no doubt become a few days of comfort until she flew out again.
 
I could have told you right then how it would go. I would make it clear I didn’t want to use her, make a show of resisting her charms, and she would lie, saying something about just a bit of comfort between friends, hoping the contact would engender feeling in me I was yet to come to know. We would have our week of fun, and then somewhere along the line I would have to face her accusations of doing precisely what I told her I was doing.
 
This of course, is exactly what happened and another good friend is assigned to the annals of history.


© Copyright 2019 Duncan Bewley. All rights reserved.

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