Writing Group 11 : She was very bad

She was very bad when it came to men. It was either one night stands or disastrous relationships with guys that turned out to be so unsuitable that she had stopped telling her friends about them to avoid the embarrassment.
She fell for the most stupid things, a guy’s hands, or the way he walked, or sometimes just the passing resemblance to another person she had once met.
This time it was his smell.
She was sitting on the Eurostar, window seat, her eyes already closed, ready to sleep the journey. The train was still boarding and the seat next to her was not yet occupied, until she felt a presence next to her and the weight of a body as they sat. She caught a breath of their scent.
It was intoxicating; she breathed deeply and kept her eyes closed, not wanting to break the illusion. The person had to be French, the smell of cigarettes and perfume was a mix that only that culture could perfect. The notes were deep, reminding her of red-berries and leather, a hint of whisky or red wine, wool jumpers and freshly ground coffee.
She imagined a man, tall and dark, with the kind of eyes so deep you feel into them, so intense you could not look away, even though it was so frightening to hold their gaze.
In her mind she saw a suit, expensive but not flashy, well cut to show the toned body of, say; 35 years, no tie, shoes polished but worn, like the briefcase. Large strong hands capable of a life outdoors as well as the office.
A slow laugh and a low voice, intelligent conversation about ideas and life followed by passionate embraces and love by candle light as music played just for them.
She heard the rustle of a newspaper open and felt the draft across her face from the moving paper.
She opened her eyes to risk a look…


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