A flicker of hope in the hands of destiny.

I stared into the knife in mid air slowly rotating atop of my head as my thoughts brought me back to the past. The night was perfect, I could smell and hear her in the wind. I spent an hour getting ready, choosing that shirt that made me look strong, the pants that complemented my lack of butt, the lotion that would make her remember me, hell; I even went to the barber shop that same day. I mounted my sports car as the knight mounts his horse on his way to war. The air of confidence and arrogance grew in me, I was simply beautiful and nothing could go wrong. We were to meet at the French restaurant “Le chateau du vin”. Without looking at the valet parking boy I threw the bill at him and looked away, I entered the restaurant as the king enters his castle. Once again I fell in love at the sight of her sitting in the table, shinning like the moon in the midst of night. The knife arrived at its maximum height and slowly started to come down with an acceleration of 9.8m/s. She noticed then, and the knight was thrown down of his horse. The fine element of disaster, the hair that stuck out… through the reflection of the wine glass I could see it now, that nose hair sticking out. Time slowed down and I saw her stand up and head for the exit. She left as the sun leaves the night alone to silence and shadows. I grabbed the knife and threw it up into the air. Heads and tails, heads and tails, tip of knife and the knife’s handle, tip of knife and the knife’s handle, the repetitive rotation of the knife reminding me the fine equilibrium of life and death. As my hopes grew dim I saw her through the corner of my eyes, her angelic silhouette, giving me a flicker of hope. I closed my eyes and gave away, because as much as I wanted I was in the hands of destiny.