By Vishal
Date: 2003 Feb 21
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A Memory By The Lake

The waters gleamed like a newly struck medallion in the last exhausted dissolution of light over water, and a faultless linen of the purest and most sensuous gold spread toward us, like a glass of Chablis spilled across a light stained table. The clouds were filled with subtle shades of pink, magenta, pearl, mauve and vermilion, but it all changed slightly, imperceptibly, permanently with each passing movement.
I cannot express how lordly and transfigured I felt at that moment, it is a precious, life altering stare when a girl you worship looks at you with love in her eyes for the first time. I wanted to make myself handsome for her, I wanted my face to transform into something irresistable, something so outwardly dazzling that she would never want to leave my side again. But most of all, I just wanted to be beautiful enough, special enough to be the man adored by the woman who taught me how to weep with the power of what I felt for her.