Though Tim was still a little anxious about if Reganwould show up or pull a fast one on him, like it had happened with othergirls he had met. There he sat at the bar, sipping on a mint mojito whilewaiting on Regan to show up. The rest of the party was in full swing forlike a few minutes, so he thought she would show up soon."Say Tim, whatcha doing, waiting for someone?" asked some other guy fromthe office sitting at the bar next to him, clearly drunk. Tim respondedquickly, "Uh yes man, I got someone coming..... say you have not seen Jeffaround eh?" Hmm nah man, I have not.... he might be out sick or something.... anyway,enjoy the party!" as the office guy took a swig of cheap Ohio beer andwent back to the festivities."Oh hi there Tim dear!" a clear silver voice called out to Tim. He and therest of the bar took a moment to regard the entrance door and wereimmediately floored.Regan stood there at the door, wearing a Grey silk winter coat, which shequickly discards to be placed on a. I scraped away paint from the dark mass and two faces began to emerge. They leaned toward each other, touching lip to lip. So lightly touching you could almost see light between them. I hummed, not recognizing the tune. I hadn’t set up my music, so I was stuck with whatever sounds came out of my own mouth as a soundtrack.It wasn’t important to be on key. Just noises, sometimes tonal and sometimes not, but filled with the emotion of my paint on the canvas. It was a counterpoint to color, an aural representation of chiaroscuro. It would never be a symphony, but it was a soundtrack and the more I painted, the livelier my vocal presentation became. Without words, I was letting go of my emotions—putting my night with Kate on canvas.What was it that brought us to tears as we climaxed together last night? What had made Kate so frantic in her love-making that she exhausted three lovers before she reached me and had yet to reach her own fulfillment? I needed to increase my vocabulary in order.
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