Author: Joann Yu
A woman sat on a plane next to a man. He had blond hair tied in a tiny bud, wore a blue sweatshirt, and a black mask covered half of his face. She didn’t know if he had blue eyes. She didn’t dare to look at his face.
On the plane, she saw dusk coming from the other side of the cloud sea. They were flying into the night. The luminous violet oozed into the flight cabinet. Her skin looked peach caramel. The woman was not normally attracted to blonde men. They looked too light.
She fell asleep in her seat. Amid the border of dream and lucidity, she saw a black ring wrapped around the man’s ring finger on his left hand. Her head tilted, slowly landing on the blue sweater. It was a solid shoulder. The man did not shy away. She felt a furry ball gently lying on her head.
When the plane arrives, passengers stand up, line up, pace through the door and down the connection tunnel. Behind the blue sweater, She follows and drifts and they are walking side by side. It begins with a finger, two fingers, and then she feels a warm palm sliding into the hollow of her hand with the cool and stiff ring pressed against her bone.
When they stand on the curbside, the man waves for the taxi with his left hand, a black ring. He says, go to the nearest hotel. She sees the black mask move up and down.
When he lays her on the white sheets, he peels her clothes off. The fabric slides like silk. He peels himself too except for that black ring and black mask. The woman was afraid to check the color of his eyes.
When they become one entity, the woman sees, while eyes closed, that his face is as white as the bed sheets. His hair is white. His eyes are white. The blankness intruded on her. Oh no.