Love is in the Air

You reckon we should do it?

The Love Festival of the desert tribes lasts for three nights in a row, at the beginning of summer.

In one of those festive night celebrations, Ma-Tilda and Rabbi-Novitch were sitting together near the bonfires, watching the dancing girls. The men only played an instrument or watched. That’s because they were not allowed to dance – and didn’t even dare wishing it.

“Tilly,” he asked, “You like music?”

“Manhattan Transfer,” she said.

“Manhattan who?”

“Transfer.”

“Oh,” said Rabbi-Novitch, his eyes watching far beyond the horizon.

“Would you like to walk with me to the shore of the High Sea?” he turned and asked her.

“You sure we’re allowed to do that?”

“I’m sure we don’t,” he said, looking deeply into her blue eyes.

A soft smile spread across their faces, they took each other by the hand and walked toward the shore, bypassing the Zoo Plantation.

When they reached the shore Rabbi asked: “Do you want to do it with me?”

“We’re already doing it,” she said and nodded her head to their hands which were still holding each other.

The boy looked at her for a moment and thought to himself: “I guess we should wait a year or two and then see.”

He hugged her softly and moved from side to side, rocking gently to the rhythm of the distant music. She joined him with a light motion and so they continued for a long while, each contemplating their thoughts.

“I love you very much, Tilly,” he finally said.

She did not answer but her hug, so he felt, got stronger for a wee while.