She's back!...

Through a wall which I stubbornly resisted to conquer, and trespass that melancholic smile of hers, which has daunted me for ages. She came when I dreamt of her, and she went when I believed she was real. I was devastated for 32 years, existing in a wilderness of empty, dragging along in the spotlight of  undeserved recognition. All I had was a voice, a pencil, and a talent of telling stories, most of them untrue. I thought that fairy tails happen. Never confused them with lies.

I found her in a mistake of spelling. But her page was closed to  aliens and illiterates. All I could do was drop a message, which I did. I squeezed it easily into a digital bottle, after all it was only her name, and threw it in the sea of friends, likes, and awfully grinning faces. Day 1 came and passed. Day 2 went unnoticed. Day 3 presumed my vanity. Day 4 confirmed it.

I went for a game of golf! Hole number 5 gave the tweet of a birdie, but I spent no attention. Chances, happen. They awaken hopes and expectations. They even bring birth to erotic illusions - a river climbing all over your body, caressing moments that hurt, igniting expressions long expired.

When darkness came and the round was never completed, the ding-a-ling revealed her identity, and I stuttered with agony. What was her response to my question mark after her name? A mistake overlooked? Or and invitation overwritten? I felt the urge to escape, and I plunged into the river which was now defecting my body.

The sun, red as can never be, dominated the sea below and all that it commanded. The message wrote "I'm so glad you came", and I smiled. The bottle was floating in my heart. I knew she was back. And I logged in to welcome her...