Running Rivers.

That night in the hotel. She slept like a rose. When she woke up - eyes wide open - the sun warmed up the side of the window. Glorious radiation. Gold. A new day. Fragrance of a new adventure. The pillow next to her gone. She searched for it, but could not find it. A trace of blood on the sheets. A straight line. Could be from her. A bug that hit her? Unexplainable. She felt goose bumps, again. She left the bed and stumbled over an object. A box of Pall Mall. In the bathroom a cigarette. Still on fire. Freshly smoked and carelessly left behind. A white towel strangled. Witnessed by some drops of water coming from the shower. 'Oh my God, what is this?', she whispered to herself. She recognised his selfish habits.

She decided to bravely surrender. Just like that. Signs of what? Sometimes there were simply no answers in life. 'Just keep on walking, darling', she said to herself. The shower was awesome. Her body felt divine. Like a goddess. Elegant figure. She took a glimpse in the mirror. 'Sexy as hell', that is what he used to tell her when they had slept together. She kind of liked it. The way he said it, made all the difference. His glowing eyes. More than satisfied. She missed his touch. His hands all over her. In these moments she felt more alive than ever. His sex appeal, oh my God. She turned to take the towel. Two shadows against the wall. Making love. Devouring. Burning souls. Hot steam covered the mirror. 'I crave you', said the mirror.

She lost it. In the shower. She wanted him. So badly. Screaming his name. Loud. He felt exactly the same. He knew her weak spots and played with them. His smile convincing and strong. Then 'it' was gone. As if nothing ever happened. The towel fell down. She was naked. The temperature in the bathroom went seriously down. Why had he been seducing her? She had to complete the assignment. 'Son of a bitch, are you distracting me!', that thought popped up. He always loved to give her more challenges. He sensed that she could handle it. 'You are unstoppable, my darling', was this his thought, or hers? The phrase turned around in her mind, spreading its force everywhere. Suddenly her energy level was higher than ever.

She took breakfast. The egg was soft. Perfectly done. The croissants still warm. She was not alone. In the middle of the room a man was reading a newspaper. His watch was huge. Luxurious. She tried to figure out the time. He left his table. An envelope remained. Nobody in the room. She was curious. She went to the table. Grabbed the envelope. An e-ticket inside. A flight to New York. With Delta Airlines. Choqued she was. Her name was on the ticket. Departure: in four hours. She was hesitating. Would she take it? Leave it? Her mobile phone was ringing. The police department. If she could spend two more nights with family or friends. They needed more time for the investigation.

Before she left for the airport, she walked alongside the river. River running without any hesitation. 'Do not hold back, sweetheart, you got to do what you got to do', she was ready. Her sensual lips curling deliciously like a fine woman sculpture made by Michelangelo. She took a taxi. The airport was huge. Full of passengers. Shadows surrounding her. Grey souls. Some more enlightened. The exceptional ones. Delta Airlines. Found. She registered for the take off. Bought a glossy magazine and a bottle of sparkling water. The black chair next to her empty. What was that? A yellow piece of paper fell down. A post-it. 'Hurry up, baby girl, the business transaction needs your signature, go to Manhattan, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, I will meet you there!', his words captured her soul. 'Asshole, I miss you', her heart beating faster.

The plane took off. She closed her eyes. Solid wings. In the air. Clouds passing by. The universe showing its endless beauty. Making the impossible possible. The sound of passengers talking. Soon she fell in a deep sleep. Almost the stage of a coma. The last days left a crazy impact on her. On bare feet. Her high heel shoes too narrow. After all that walking. One shoe moved. Inch per inch. He was playing tricks with her. A man - two seats further - felt how something touched his leg. Surprised he saw the shoe. He turned his head. Saw this woman. The other seats occupied by business men in shining costumes. Price tags removed. It must be hers! When she would wake up, he would give it back. Smiling. Conquering with male fantasy. He loved the way she was sleeping. Sexy neck. Felt attracted. Damn curious to see her eyes. Wide open.

By Liesbeth Leysen

Part one: https://www.bebee.com/producer/@liesbeth-leysen/another-day-in-paris

Part two: https://www.bebee.com/producer/@liesbeth-leysen/windy-city

Part three: https://www.bebee.com/producer/@liesbeth-leysen/haunted-by-the-unexplainable