Too long have I waited...

The Division Bell by Pink Floyd... a classic example of my experiences lately. The sense of alienation and loss, blindly wandering through the world without any idea of where we/I (in the proverbial sense) are going. It's overwhelming most of the time, but in those few moments of blinding clarity you feel more alive than you ever have or will... just like the album.

I stumble, once again, into the bar with the single candle burning in the window. The atmospheric strains of Pink Floyd drift through the air like a thought in the back of the mind... tantalizing and tempting; at once depressing and hopeful. It's hard to explain... but it's perfect for drinking.

Scotch on the rocks: the thin, almost reedy taste drifts across my palate and down my throat. It's cool and refreshing, I order another. The track changes, one of those moments of clarity comes on. A brunette drifts in, her perfume drifting, filling every corner of the bar, turning heads, warranting a second glance before the bar-flies return to their glasses. Her hair is cut short and she wears a dress that clings to her form, curves accentuated in a sultry fashion underneath the fabric. Is it love? Who knows, I don't want to judge just yet, it's certainly attraction and who am I to judge whether or not love can form at first sight?

It's cold outside, she's probably come in to escape it, she's dress for a night out... not for the cold. She orders white wine and leans against the bar. Those curves...

She looks at me, fire in her eyes. I look away, not wanting to be caught staring. I wish I had a book to look at, I'd have a reason to look away. I glance up again and she's staring at me... the track changes again and we're caught in a dream world, somewhere far away. A field at night, it's black and we're the lovers running to each other across the field of stars; we meet and embrace and the world falls into place around us... put it's a dream and I can't break far enough out to get out of my seat and talk to her so the dream goes on.

The heavens house and protect us. On the edge of a lake, where to moon rises and we can watch its transit over-head. It could fall on us and all would be well... she was perfect and I was happy to be surrounded by her perfection.

In spite of this I was unable to get past my own hang-ups and talk to her. She was ideal but I knew it wasn't going to happen, the muse had my heart held firmly in her hands and wouldn't let go. But that's the way of the muse I guess, once she has you it's hard to extricate yourself from her.

I downed the last of my second glass of scotch and headed for the door... Bella would be waiting.