Hallo allemaal!

Ik heb een verhaal geschreven over een avond die we hadden met twee hele leuke Amerikanen. Het is hoofdzakelijk voor hen geschreven, en dus is het in het engels (dat jullie niet denken: ''praat gewoon nederlands pretentieuze zak hooi'') Het is fictief, dus enigzins geromanticeerd. Nathan

What Once Was

I first saw them in a bar at the beach. Aruba. A man and a woman, grown-up, driven go-getters from the big city. New York. Boys and girls, we had a spark of youth that night, kids again. He was a short guy, but he had a presence. His dark hair shone under the colorful lights. His clothes and beard gave away a perfectly orchestrated nonchalance. One or two not-so-liberal locals shook their heads at his extraversion, we smiled and danced carelessly. She had blonde hair and a black dress. She was talkative and energetic, still her motions had a tender shyness in them, like a flower, in doubt whether it should set to bloom or not. With me was my love. Her long, black dress, her beautifully wild dark her, her big brown eyes that left you breathless the first time you looked into them. I followed her, dedicated and quiet, like a shadow.

We danced on the edge of the cliffs of youth, the abyss of adulthood screaming at us from the depts. Just a little longer. We devoured every second of it, unwilling to let the moment slip through our fingers. Every passing second was a tiny bite out of our future, the tragedy of time slowly ticking away. We danced under the clear summer sky, stars were raining down on us. Every drink made us rise, every sip made us bigger. We touched the moon that night, the moon whose tender, white light caressed the ocean, paving a white-golden path to heaven for us.

The dancefloor was packed, but it was just us four. We didn’t see them, this is our world. Sweat ran down our foreheads, soaked outfits, we didn’t care. Ecstasy. Never ending. Hours went by, we were weightless, floating above the soft sand.

Lights on. Hurt feet. Dried sweat. Tired, reality. We said goodbye to them, and went our separate ways. They disappeared in the island’s frightening darkness. Gone.

A week later, my love and I went to the same place again, trying to recapture that magic. But we couldn’t. It was lost. It had been a sudden bright spark that illuminated a pitch black room for a second, fading away as fast as it came. Gone. What once was.