Artist: Vincent Van Gogh

Forgiving Moon

Dylan quickly glanced up and down the cobbled stone street before returning his gaze to the untouched glass of wine. He was certain that Jenny would walk by the cafe – any moment now. He shifted his chair slightly once more.  He needed to be sure she would see him sitting at their table.  On this particular night, with a forgiving full moon in play – she would surely stop when she saw him. Absently, he traced the lip of the glass.  ‘Yes … she would surely stop’, he floated out to himself.

The memory of her image flooded his mind – impossible beauty that always made his heart stop.  With those swirling blue eyes that hypnotized him so easily.  Her simple brilliant smile, that took his breath away.  The rhythmic sway of her fingers as she walked – her private dance with the breeze.  Incredibly, a dance she invited him to join.  He could still see her dress flirt with her knees as she reached for his hand. He smiled at the thought of her casually seductive movement that teased his senses.

Yet, he felt the undercurrent of lost movement … masked by silent stillness. How long had it been since he last saw her – last felt her?  He tried to ignore the question – he knew it had been too long.  Although painful, leaving her that day seemed like the right choice – the only choice. He wondered now, as he seemed to do a lot lately, if it really was the only choice. ‘So much movement lost’ he sighed to himself.

Now, here he was – back at the café – years later. He’d convinced himself he came back to finish his book.  Though he thought the story was finished, somewhere deep inside he felt it was missing something – something important.  He knew the real reason he came back to Arles – to see her.  Had he always known he would return – for her?  With a touch of hope, he slid his hand around the contour of the glass – caressing it with his fingers as he drifted in thoughts of her.

He floated back to the first night he saw her – his Jenny …

First Glance

The full moon cast Jenny’s silhouette across his table as she walked past the café, instantly drawing his eyes to her. An unfamiliar voice behind Dylan called out “Jenny, time for a drink?” She spun around, seemingly in slow motion, as Dylan lost himself in her impossible beauty.  The first thing he noticed was her deep blue eyes – luminous as the moon behind her. One glance – his first – in her direction and he went numb.

She flashed an effortless smile while waving at her friends sitting behind him.  But her smile beamed for him, he was certain. That single smile imprinted her image somewhere deep within his heart.  As time stood still just for him, he found himself recording every nuance of her. The world seemed to dissolve around him – he was vaguely aware of boisterous laughter and activity all around him, but that quickly faded into the background as a soft buzzing sound – barely audible.

The moonlight, behind her, diffused into a glow through her loose flowing hair. It framed her beautiful face, pulling him helplessly into her eyes – her smile. Dylan was caught up in the sense of movement about her – a movement meant just for him. He noticed she fit perfectly inside her dress – it seemed to dance with delight against her stride. With each step she took, he found himself pulled closer into her – and he found it more difficult to breathe.

Not realizing he had stopped talking in mid-sentence, Angela’s voice seemed an intrusion “Dylan … Dylan, where are you?”  Following his locked gaze, she smiled “ah yes – Jenny, of course.”  Her words penetrated him – yet, unable or unwilling to pull his eyes away from Jenny as she drifted towards him, Dylan almost pleaded, “Angela, you know her?”

Michael