Will your bow tie help you fly

“Table for two?” waiter asked, as soon as he saw them crossing the entrance.

“Yes, please,” Greg replied and followed the angels, which lead them to the place pointed by the waiter.

Lights were slightly dimmed. He was wearing his bow tie, she had a surprise on her face. Two more steps and they stood next to the table, which welcomed them with a candle light. This was not a place you take your loved one for a night out, yet with no other choice he wanted to show her what love means, especially in those tough times. They looked into each other’s eye telling all those words, which they forgot. Words, hiding deep in their hearts, allowing those, which were burning, to speak their way out. Still neither the place, which normally has a different feel, nor the people staring at them, asking “is this real?”, could take this moment away from them.

As the angels were serving them their meal they forgot for a second what each day, for past few weeks they went through, had to deal. How much pain they needed to suffer just by being here. In those few moments love could whisper to their ears making them to forget what color of the eyes has fear.

And not the dishes, not the meal were making the atmosphere but the fact that for a short while they could pretend to be somewhere else, they could disappear.

And he suddenly knew again how to make her smile. Remind himself how to complement her look to make her feel beautiful despite her weary eyes. How to grasp her heart and fill with love. Reminisce the times when life was simple, good and not hitting you with a shove. And all of this and more just to hear her laughter, feel her joy…

 “…and this was so romantic on one end and a slightly bizarre on the other. He came with a white tablecloth, take-away food, lit the candles and we sat there having a dinner, a date, in our canteen.  And those eyes of the other parents looking at us. Mothers with a bit of jealousy. And fathers with slight shame, that they did not thought of that…” Martha was finishing the story.

 “Cherry?” I asked opening plastic box filled with drilled, slightly moist cherries. “Yeah, I saw it and I was also one of those who were thinking, what the hack are they doing in this place?”

“No, thank you” Martha replied slightly surprised from the offer. “Yes, I could feel it but still loved that moment”

“Well, I would take it if I were you.” I have smiled wryly.

“Why?” She replied with slight curiously in her voice.

“These are my special cherries, I took them out from liquor I made home. They were laying there for past three months in pure spirit. As you can imagine, they will make you feel much better. Plus, as you know, cherries are good for your heart.” – I smiled to her shoving the box closer to her nose.

“Well, since you put it that way, I would like to try some. MMM good, one more please,” she replied after taking one.

I first saw his outfit. While many people tried to dress causal, not to stick out from the crowd, he drawn my attention by colorful bow ties. It was on one hand bringing some color into this gray, dull environment, but on the other also drawings people attention. And I was one of those people. Wondering why he dresses this way, is this his style, way to dress to work, or method of fighting all those dark thoughts, which this place brings into people’s minds. Soon after I saw his child and his wife, Martha. It was when Mag was not feeling well and I stayed for few nights with Szymek, sleeping in the CSD. And thanks to that room sharing we started long talks about God, life, suffering and at the same time trying to loosen up this deadly dense atmosphere with some poking jokes.

“One more cherry?” I have asked.

“No thanks, if I ate more I would not wake up at night to feed Lily,” She replied smiling.

I closed the box and went sleeping.