Friendship

"Friendship, like love, can wax and wane", she said, and I could see the blonde fuzz as she crossed and uncrossed her legs, which were reflected in the glass of red wine that rested in her palm. Her voice had grown deeper, it seemd to me, with ever sip of inebriation. The garnets on her neck matched the wine in her glass, and her blonde hair was tubling out of the bun that framed the nape of her neck.

"I suppose so", I said, remembering, three years ago, her saying, "Zach and I are working towards our I-love-yous". I have never been a woman to work on my I-love-yous; they slip from my lips freely, like kisses, and it is only afterwards, lying by myself at night that I wonder if my love was real, or some mistaken for of lust I could not recognize. "You always choose the wrong men, because what you can't have is easier to let go of", she said. "And you always know you want to let go in the end", she added, playing with the diamond on her finger.

Now, she was sitting here, her legs crossed, her lips red with wine, and I wanted to taste the drunkeness on her cheeks, to suck the intoxication from her lips, like a lover sucking venom from the wound, the snake long slithered away.

"You are so beautiful", I said with a weak smile, "surely the love will wax again." She sliced me with her eyes. "That is the lamest thing you have said to me, in six years of friendship." I laughed. "Well, I guess the moment had to come some time." She shrugged. "Yeah, well, I probably should get back." "But I thought -" "God, Janet - he's my husband! I'm not just gonna leave him!" "Yeah well, I'm here if you want to talk or if - you know - if you need someplace to go.' "Yeah, I know, and that means a lot to me Janet, it really does." For a moment I was enveloped in a cloud of soft silk and gardenia-scented perfum, with yellow hair that tickled my cheeks - then she let go.

"See you." she said, "I'll probably try to call later this week". Her back was turned to me; already her heels were clicking on the linoleum as she made her way to the door. "See you", I said, and as I stood at the door and watched her turn the corner, I thought how never had I been turned on by a pair of such poorly clad feet.