‘What are you up to?’ Mr T’s voice sounded laboured on my cellular phone. ‘I’m meeting an old friend of mine, I last saw when I finished my studies at the Technical University of Vienna, then called short TH’.

‘What you know’, he mumbled.

‘Well, that is how I registered the short dialogue that caught me unawares’, the poet said and paused puffing the air from his lungs in unprecedented style. He did not enjoy to turn indiscreet, not now, anyway.

‘But as he doffed his coat and I took it, I noticed that it was Simchi, my beloved from my student years. But I did not tell this to Mr T, it was after all my personal affair. I noticed a shadow behind the curtains’.

‘Who?’ my shadow asked.

‘It’s my first love from my student times’, my inner voice replied impatiently.

‘Well this certainly must be a great surprise for you’.

‘Yes, it was. But why this inquisition?’ The poet replied and lost himself on the way hanging up her coat at the wardrobe. His thoughts trailed off to a painting by Gauguin.

‘Why did you follow this naked young boy?’ the shadow wanted to dig into the poet’s bank of emotions.

‘Well, suddenly I had slipped into the artist’s skin and followed this young boy, who walked in front of me uphill. In the dampness of the tropical air, when the brain becomes dull and one has mild hallucinations, you suddenly become aware of the beauty of a young body, his slender spine ending in well-shaped bums that move seductively in front of your eyes to the rhythm of climbing upwards. Pearls of sweat forming on his sacral bone and trailing between his amber buttocks that are enticing my desire to touch him. I was stirred and as he slowed down I came closer to him. My fingers touched him and I became an instant erection…Gosh! In a climactic joy I woke. Daydreamer? Exactly. Simchi stood in front of me.’

‘This is an astonishing story, erotic and enthralling’. The poet kept still. Pearls of sweat had accumulated on his forehead, shimmering like diamonds.

‘She was my first love’, the poet said in a low voice, ‘I recognized her dusky eyes and her lips with a captivating smile. That does not change with age’.

‘How do you know this?’ His inner collocutor asked, but it might have been his shadow.

‘I have it from Athina, the poet’.

‘She was right it seems’.

‘Yes, I’m glad, how else would I have recognized her?’ His collocutor-shadow was silent.

The waiter appeared and she ordered mint tea. He still sipped on his Chu Mee tea. Then he began telling her sketches from his life, as it came, or however she asked him about this and that, his life, his adventures, Africa.

Then she cut in and spoke about her life, her times on stages of theaters, about her book, her lectures, her past marriage, indicating it with a sad note. Then again his stories. This went on for some hours, like a friendly match of tennis. She stopped at times, looking up the rest room. His bladder was stronger, always had been, he recalled.

When she came back, she carried on with something from the past, and changing to temporary happenings, she talked about the Viennese scene of younger Viennese writers, who have given her some inspiration for her new book. He offered her names of authors and she noted down an author who wrote about writing. Then, they had already finished their teas, she ordered some toast with ham and cheese. He followed her thereafter and it tasted so much better eating together, sitting opposite each other, gazing into each other’s eyes.

Habibi came offering roses. ‘She has beautiful eyes’, he murmured and wanted to sell him a second bunch. The poet agreed with the compliment for her eyes, but disagreed with a second bunch. Simchi thanked her beloved for the flowers. ‘They suit you’, he murmured and he watched her beguiling smile. It stirred him.

Was it the excitement or her bladder, but she had indicated to him some problems with her stomach. He watched her behind as she walked toward the rest room, and he recalled a scenery as he kneaded her butts, as they had made love in his study room bed. He wished then he could have satisfied her the way she wanted. But he was too weak from little food and long hours of working on a project. But he still recalled the lustful expression in her face as she enjoyed fucking him.

Just now she had a similar expression – could she read his mind? – The first sign of Joy, the slight tilt of her body, her lips slightly opened showing immaculately white teeth, and her lusting glance. Yes, he wondered why he had parted company one day, back 52 years.  No, it was the other way around. She appeared one afternoon, when he was in bed with Bee. He rushed naked to the door of his student room and opened the door a bit. She greeted him, pushed the door open and peeked into the room, where she saw the other woman. Then she rushed out, cursing him and disappeared in a huff and puff. ‘Damned!’ he swore, ‘bad timing’. From then on their ways parted, as he knew her Mom had somebody else in mind to become a worthwhile partner to her. So she had said to him last time she came to him for some relaxing bed time, as she called it. He heard from her Mom that she had left on a theatre engagement to Germany, but her mother would not give him her forwarding address. So, his communication was cut-off with her by force.

And now? He was still attracted to her esprit, her ways toward life and her warm, hazel-brown eyes with the sparks of enthusiasm as she spoke of her work. He appreciated all of her being, wishing that his dreams about her came true. He told her about happiness being a triad of heart, soul, and body. ‘Well, two of the three have to be enough for now’, she said and smiled. He understood that this would still take some time. ‘It’ll be early summer, when I come back’, she said. ‘Then we could take a walk’. Yes, sure. He thought thinking of their walks in the Viennese Woods as students. He smiled. Did she still remember?

But he knows inside him. He will love her again, and he will give her that what she deserved and what she never had yet. He could give it to her now and he was poised with every fiber in his body. ‘I’m crazy about her facial expression, when she reaches her climax’, he thought. ‘This is still something I wish to experience with her. I will’. Exactly that he had experienced with Anna and now he wished to transfer that to Simchi and enjoy it with her.

She was reading in his face and he felt her searching in his mind, observing his mind’s eye.

‘I will be back wenn it will be warmer again’, she said and bade him good-bye. They walked together to the subway at the opera. At the entrance to her line, they kissed as friends again. She moved down the escalator waving him.

He walked slowly to the entrance of his subway line and thought about his plans of talking about lots of happenings that had influenced their lives. He smiled at the thought of taking her to a cozy hotel entertaining her all night. He had to say so many things to her. ‘Well, then next time’, he murmured and accessed the incoming subway train U4.