The Dutch pragmatist and the deviant optimist’s night out

Tonight I attended a fundraising concert put on by my friend who recently lost her daughter to cancer. I dressed in my midnight blue slave dress (not unlike Diveca’s suggestion but with a handkerchief hem), simple silver jewellery in my ears and on my fingers, silvery black kitten heel sling backs adorn my feet and my lips are rouged with red wine. My Sir tells me I look regal and ensures I know just whose ass that is before I head out with my lady friend. As we drive along the sea route the sky is heavy with lush black clouds, the moisture in the air set on fire by the departing sun. It is an unbelievable sunset. Rain intermittently splashes on the windows as we crane our necks to memorise the beauty of the misty clouds and falling moisture creating subtle layers of ethereal hue on the distant mountain ranges. We are intoxicated with the beauty of the evening as we catch up on random events from the time we have been apart. We arrive as Venus and the quarter moon start gleaming in earnest and wander beneath fragrant subtle pink rambling roses into the venue. We dance near a table filled with elderly couples crooning the words to the old classics being played in contemporary arrangements. They bash out the percussion with their feet and demonstrate that they are still in love with clasped hands and stolen kisses. The pragmatist dances in a matter of fact feminine earthy way, the optimist a barefoot nymph impossible to contain. When we tire the head of the nearby table chivalrously seeks chairs and extra glasses so that we can share their wine. The grieving mother is a vision of professional musicianship improvising through the hiccups and the perfect hostess greeting everyone in the room during the break. We embrace for a long time, her eyes tell the deeper story and we acknowledge the desire to find a quite spot to really talk but that is for another time, this is a time for uplifting music, dancing and sampling delicious beverages. I am congratulated at home for having accomplished the entire evening missing one item that my Sir removed before I left the house. He returns them to me but I decline permission to put my panties back on, it is time for Act II of the evening. 

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2 comments on “The Dutch pragmatist and the deviant optimist’s night out

  1. dievca says:

    Glad the dress worked out! 🙂

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