i met someone who was absent-minded. we talked for hours, but to me, it felt like seconds ... we spoke about friends, acquaintances, women and men ... and, surprisingly, we laughed a lot, too.
much of what you could see about this person was the very definition of absent-mindedness. zoning out the things that didn't matter (i made a comment about the way the waitress was dressed and they simply shrugged their shoulders and changed the subject saying that clothes were irrelevant). the next moment they were paying intense attention to something that made them oblivious to anything that was going on (when they saw the cake they had ordered, nothing else mattered and as they ate it, i could tell for sure they were not there with me anymore) ... and later stubbornly refused any distraction of attention from the object of focus by irrelevant surrounding events (lighting a cigarette and bluntly ignoring when i asked for a light ... maybe they simply didn't hear me ... who knows? ). just as i am now calling them absent-minded, the people we spoke about had all reached a consensus: they weren't paying attention !
some said this person was superficial. because this person lost interest very quickly, they said. "... loves to play games, but isn't a player. only a teaser ..." one of the good friends said. i guess the friend was right: they did flirt with someone sitting at one of the tables in the cafe. i asked them if they liked this other person, they blushed and nodded, so i encouraged them to make a move but they said the flirt was good enough ... another good friend said they were constantly too serious and philosophical. i also felt that, as they kept quoting various people i had never heard of and made me feel ignorant .... others said they were not reliable. that i couldn't say, i had only met them a few hours before. according to them, a couple of their friends said they were like the wind. here one moment, then gone over the rainbow. i hope we become friends so i will discover if this is true.
she mentioned some men she met. one of them said it was all in her eyes. the other loved the way she smiled, while the third called her his beloved lady. the first one said she was the love of his life and some 10 years after they had gone their separate ways, he cried for her in the arms of his mistress while his wife was about to give birth to their child. the tall guy, with long hair and green eyes said he would never again cry like they used to do it together, whereas the fisherman thought it was his prerogative to tell her how to live her life. when she asked me what i thought of the men she mentioned, i was not prepared to say anything so i told her my opinion was irrelevant anyway. and she quickly agreed to that.
we met in a small cafe on the bank of a river at the end of october. she smiled, her eyes were sparkling. her hands were fine and her lips like roses. she said she was tired but soon after sipping from the tea she felt "very much alive". we talked for hours until they asked us to leave. it was closing time, i couldn't believe it. we left the cakes with the ladies who were going to close the cafe and took a walk over the bridge, where we watched the river sweeping the rocks below. it was a warm autumn night and the sky was hiding beyond clouds. around 11, she thanked me for having talked to her and left.
she reminded me of apple pie because she smelled like cinnamon ...