Elisa is a flawless revelation in her monochrome bikini, catching the afternoon's final sunlight on the balcony while I count beads of sweat like raindrops on her back.
glows in airy lightness, the obviousness with which she turns toward me
and speaks, how she says something, anything, whatever. I'm in the
shade under layers of linen, an arm's length away from the hypnotic
smell of coconut oil. Day by day passes by in our ever expanding bubble
while I relate to my most important discovery over the last few weeks
being that pale is better when it comes to rosé wines.
plans of vanity to keep from remembering, vaguely imagining a different
future is the only drug that really works for me, the only high that
lasts. Tomorrow is just hours away and I picture myself in ivory silk
from Dior, my heels perforating the streets of Monaco with Henry at my
side, his arm steadily around my waist in the golden sunset. We will be
diamonds and stars and nobody will know who we are but everyone will