Faint Hopes by Ken Liebeskind
David walked up to the bar and ordered two of them. The scent of the fruit juices was very appealing and reminded him of Dawn, who had come from South Africa, where things were pretty juicy. He thought about exotic fruit trees and other wildness, which Dawn readily personified. As she sipped her drink, her full lips sparkled with the liquid libation, her tongue glowed.
David suddenly had a goal in mind, to talk with Dawn about something other than the restaurant, the customers from Eastern Europe who had never heard of tipping, the mad chefs running rough shod in the kitchen. David wanted to know Dawn on another level, so he would try to communicate in a different way with her. He thought he might talk about South African politics, but decided against it because Dawn seemed completely apolitical.
“I think I want to run away with you,” he dared to say. How’s that for idle chit chat, it made him think. “Really?” Dawn said. “Where do you want to go?” “I don’t know,” David said, “someplace where they have sex on the beach instead of tap water.” “Ooh, that sounds like fun,” Dawn said. “I think I’d like to go.” She lifted her glass, and David raised his and they knocked them together in a toast. “Cheers,” David said. “Double cheers,” Dawn responded.
They stood together for awhile, chatting about Dawn’s budding career as an actress and David’s as a graphic designer. The fact they had other aspirations in life seemed to bind them and within a few minutes they were on the verge of friendship.