Love is just a word

THURSDAY

"Throw me tomorrow, now that I really got a chanche... Throw me tomorrow, everything's falling into place...
Only for you I don't regret...that I was Thursday's child..." (D.Bowie)

The next day Veronica woke up in a stage of confusion. She had had a strange dream. It was about her and an unknow man. The man was handsome, she could feel that, but she couldn't actually see him, or touch him. In the dream she felt more beautiful than she really was. In fact she was not bad at all, with her long and slighly curly hair that had not a specific color. They weren't blonde and they weren't brown. As well as her eyes: they were brown when there was no light and green when touched by the sunlight. She was beautiful but, as every woman, she couldn't really realize it. Her problem were her hips. Way too wide. And her tits. Way too small.
- I have a terrible body- she used to think - I might have a pretty face but my hips screw up everything! -
But she was too lazy to go to the gym or go on a diet.
- I don't really like my body, but after all this is me. I don't wonna be a model. My mom gave me my body shape...I can't blame her. I'm a woman for God's sake! I need hips, somehow! -
That's what she used to tell herself in particular positive moments or when somebody, or herself, remembered her the existence of the gym.
Anyway we lost our way.
The dream. The dream, right.
What a beautiful sensation. What a wonderful feeling. The man was talking to her. He was telling her that her hips were beautiful. That she was beautiful. And that he loved her. They were in a huge bedroom full of flowers. Pink walls were surrounding them and a big white double bed was waiting for their bodies. While the man was speaking Veronica was flying in heaven, reaching peaks of happiness never reached before. But she was also feeling bad, as if she didn't want all of that, as if she wanted to be alone. She even started crying at some point, and the she laughed, and cried again, all while the man was still talking. He kept saying amazing things, but suddenly she couldn't hear him anymore: he was there, standing and talking, but he couldn't be seen by Veronica's eyes. A kiss on her mouth, given by a ghost, her wet lips against his phantom mouth.
The dream was over.
Veronica grabbed her cup of milk full of cereals, that she had been drinking every morning since she was a little child, with terrible thoughs in her mind. - What could the dream possibly mean? Why couldn't I see him? Why was I feeling so bad? I don't wanna fell like that never again.-
It was 9.15.
-I need to go to work. Where the hell are keys when you need them?-
She left home for a day full of movies, reviews and articles.