Fastened, I’m sitting on the bed, my eyes closed, and the fiery, long, red silk dress with its thigh-high slit on the left side is hanging lifelessly in front of me.

The wind invades from the open window, and the dress sways in the rhythm of the blow, creating a slow hissing sound. Thus viciously, it makes its presence significant. But this isn’t enough. It also disperses its floral sweet scent, arousing dark memories. It scornfully tells me, “No, I won’t let you forget so easily. „

Last August, the sun, golden-orange, was sinking into the horizon, passing the torch to the moon. The last few rays kissed the red silky dress and my body. Occasionally, a breeze came over from the sea, and the edge of my dress was dancing around my legs. There, standing upright on the balcony, I enjoyed the magical scenery. I waited for him, and as time went by, the suspense intensified, which in turn caused a random tremble all over my body. He had promised me that we would watch the sunset together. But the sun had already set, and darkness started stretching over the sky.

The agony subsided, and then anger emerged. Nervous, I walked back and forth on the balcony. A murmur from the people who poured out on the alleys for a night stroll climbed up and approached my ears. I felt the dress tighten around my body. I wanted to take it off, but I didn’t, so I continued to wait for him and opened a bottle of red wine. After a couple of glasses, different scenarios, like a movie, crossed my mind. “What could happen next? „

Small talk, fight, reconciliation, I didn’t know. I only knew for a long time that our relationship was dragging through our daily lives.

“If I loved him? Yes, I think he loved me too. „

That evening, I was determined to tell everything that bothered me in our relationship. Meanwhile, the bottle was half-full, the anger was eliminated, and anxiety appeared.

“Maybe something happened to him? Shall I call him? Nope, he’s the one who should call. „

After all, I regretted buying the red silk dress. Not because it was expensive, but because I was afraid it would always remind me of that summer evening.

The telephone rang, and I jumped.

It was the hospital; they told me something about an accident, which was severe. I arrived there quickly but wasn’t on time, and I had so much to say to him.

About me, about him, about us.

At last, it was too late; he had gone. Forever.

Now, I’m sitting on the bed in front of the red dress, craving all I want to confess.

©Vasiliki Papadopoulou 2023

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