Who Stole Vincent's Starry Night?

A never ending afterthought

It was a cold-some night on the eve of December 24th, and Christmas decorations let it be known that the time for the big belly man with the long white bear in the red suit was right around the corner. The one-bedroom apartment found itself invaded by red, green, and white decorations in the shapes of presents, boots with patches of dogs wearing Christmas hats and a Christmas tree that lite up with warm bright white lights. His eyes, though, found themselves busy digesting each word of that day's newspaper, while lurking from the kitchen came the smell of the beef roast showered with red-wine gravy his wife cooked that inevitably found its way to his nostrils and robbed the news tragedies from all his attention to a cheerful appetite. His ears grasped the tone of his wife singing Dean Martin along with the radio:

Pandora: "If our lips should meet Innamorata,

Kiss me, kiss me sweet Innamorata,

Hold me close and say you're mine

With a love, as warm as mine"

Her voice had always been sweet and gentle. Pandora had a gift to tune the pitch of her voice to match those of the songs she sang, it had been the forte of her musical career. Back in their days without thick skin lines under their eye lids, Pandora, had shown him the songs she'd written once upon a time in her choir days. She had tried to pursue a career in music, but unfortunately, God had not given her the talent to make it into such industry, or so her well rooted Catholic mother said. Nevertheless, a short- lived music career and her 2 cents worth manager took her on a tour to the up-north border, it was during this time at one of her local bar concerts that she and her soon to be husband would cross paths. He had just got out from his last class of the day, and after one of those head scratching tests at the University of Texas, a beer seemed like the second coming of Christ. Although, he did not find God, may others disagree, he found himself a Dahlia flower by the name of Pandora whose voice made his heart bloom.

"Vincent!" she called with the lingering effect as the first time.

He got behind his wife and wrapped his arms around her, his head resting on her shoulder and sneaking in a sweet kiss on her cheek. He could see his wife's lips curl up from the corner.

Vincent: "It may not be our wedding song, but Dean Martin always does the charm."

Pandora: "The man's voice could melt even the coldest of hearts. Who knew God's voice hid in an American Italian? When the time comes for me to go in my eternal slumber, I will surrender to the light, and fall deeply in a dream of love with his voice on repeat thinking of you"

Vincent: "Knock on wood. The deal is I get to go first. Speaking of the devil, here comes the best part" and he spun her gently with a swift move of his right hand placing her hand on his waist and moving slowly into a casual waltz. She swiped up a bottle of wine and took small sips from it while following along to his charming rhythm and her eyes fixed on his.

"If our lips should meet, Inamorata,

Kiss me, kiss me sweet Inamorata,

Hold me close and say you're mine,

With a love as warm as wine"

Pandora: "You can't deny yourself the chance to get cheesy. Oh well, I already got the wine anyways..." she said giving him a peck on the lips. "You are not a bad singer. You do a decent imitation of Dean. Maybe it's not too late for us to get on the road to California and be the next Sony and Cher. Worst case scenario we stop at Vegas and live off your impressions and my gambling."

Pandora jumped to his arms crossing hers around his head.

Pandora: "What you say, should we roll the dice?"