The Lady and the Scarlet Dress

The scarlet of the dress highlighted the pink and fleshy lips of that angelic being who was nothing like an angel...

I met death there on the corner of the house. I was passing by when it was already very late; the time does not matter; who introduced me to death was fate.

As I was saying, I was crossing the dark alley and [suddenly] fate appears to me with a very pretty friend; the velvet dress that suited the lady who wore it was the color of sin. Yes... The scarlet dress highlighted the pink and fleshy lips of that angelic being who, by the way, wasn't an angel at all.

Well-dressed destiny interrupted the contemplation of the most beautiful being that ever existed on the face of the earth, by saying three simple messages:

“Beauty is attractive and dangerous”;

“The heart is treacherous, but it is often deceived”;

“A good trap lurks behind a beautiful woman.”

Without another word, he left, leaving me to contemplate death for a long time. Beautiful features, unique beauty, however, only one thing intrigued me about her: at no time did she dare look me in the eyes.

Don't ask me for details, because I won't be able to explain; death walked away in silence, as did fate.

Every night I dream of pink lips and scarlet dress. I crave that woman; but how to find it? I didn't know. Time passed and with it my joy, my hope, finally... My will to live.

However, yesterday – when I was walking down an alley in the Lago das Rosas neighborhood – I saw her; she was as beautiful and angelic as the first time I had seen her. I tried to talk to her and declare my love, but when I started to walk towards her, she looked at me. So I froze.

Her gaze was deep, enigmatic and her pink lips – which I dreamed of kissing for hours – displayed a loose and cynical smile; my angel had lost her sweet features and turned out to be a cunning woman.

Before I snapped out of the trance her gaze put me into, she beckoned for me to follow her. So, without saying a word, I went through unknown alleys and streets, but nothing mattered to me because I had found my angel again. Suddenly, she stopped at a dead end and waited for me; I got closer to her, took her in my arms, felt her body next to mine and felt a certain relief for confirming that it wasn't a dream, because in my arms I had the woman I loved. Without saying a single word, our lips were glued in a burning and eternal kiss.

Time always told me that death was a beautiful woman; I had never believed.

So, what can be done when you have to choose between dying of love for a woman and living next to her and hoping that love doesn't end?

Perhaps – in the end – love death, live waiting for it and with a candid kiss, have a sweet death.

Cleisianne Leite.

Fomanda in Librarianship.