One Apple A Day #92
“It’s wrong.”
“Yes.”
“No, I mean. We shouldn’t do this.”
“I know.”
“So, why are we here?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because it’s wrong.”
She doesn’t say anything else for a while. They keep staring at the water in silence. The pale light of the moon creates a black and white world. Scary and magical at the same time.
During the day the river promenade is filled with life. Families and runners create a stream of humanity that flows parallel to the water. Ducks and swans float over the river waiting for some fish to hunt. Various types of birds are singing between the fronds of the trees. But when the sun goes down, a new world of shadows and silence take over. After midnight even the late runners are done. The swans, ducks and all the other animals go back to their safe nests to spend the night. The only sounds come from the water gurgling and the wind whispering through the branches.
It is too late for both of them. They should have gone home hours before. When their willpower was still firm, and when their conscience was vigil.
But now it’s too late. Their self-control is already asleep. Only the desire is still well awake.
They don’t need to say anything. They can smell it on each other. They wanted it, even if it’s wrong.
He looks at her, and she says yes, without talking. He grabs her hand. Her skin is soft and cold. One last breath and then they jump.