How long he stood there, watching, lost in the perfection of her being, he did not know. He was unaware that others watched, considered them a pair, a study in polar opposites, as he stood transfixed.
He was as dark as she was light. He was thick, muscular from heavy work, while she was petite perfection. His hair had gone snowy, the years marking him with timestamps. Her hair was dark with the luster of youth, body smooth and sleek.
He yearned for her. The exquisite lines of her, perfectly folded, perfectly balanced on the pedestal. She was a study in chiaroscuro, the play of shadow washing her skin, casting an air of mystery, of other-worldness upon her.
Though used to the gawking crowd, the living statue raised her head, sensing Him and his unblinking regard. Eyes locked, the click of souls connecting nearly audible.
He was here. At last.
My goodness this pic inspired two offerings this week! Thanks Panser. This one is “legal” at 150 words!)