Yoga on Tuesday

"Fuck me," she said reflectively.

"What's that you say?" He was standing on the second floor balcony.

"I thought it had faded. Gone away. That wasn't meant to sound like an imperative. Don't take it that way."

"Oh?" He looked confused, but interested.

"Yeah, well, it doesn't matter, because I was wrong."

"You're going to have to elaborate. You've lost me." He looked ready to launch off into one of his monologues so she carried on quickly.

"That attraction. It had been a while since I saw you last, and you failed to address almost everything I said in my emails, and then - not surprisingly - I didn't hear from you or even see you and I thought maybe it would have lost its impact. But I was wrong." She knew her face swirled with a confusion of expressions: anticipation, eagerness, regret. And heat. She felt it rising in her already, standing ten feet below him, on the sidewalk in the cold. Could he see it in the dark? She felt as if it radiated from her, lit her up from within.

That's what draws him, she thought to herself. Something about him ignites her sensual core and it shows. Like the proverbial moth, he's drawn to that flame of unbridled, uninhibited carnality in her.

"So it is," came his familiar response. "So it is," more slowly this time.

Trite though it sounded, he was right. It was so. Between them was an urgent intuition only separation could deny, but mere proximity prevented that. They'd demonstrated as much already. Was it only chance and geography that threw them together? The scientist in her shunned thoughts of serendipity. Magnetism she might have understood. Was that it? Did it matter? She wanted to see him again. She hoped it would be tonight.