After Dark
Stories With Attitude

The hallway was almost completely silent. At the far end stood a single door with a small pink light above it. I was about to turn around when the door opened.

She looked at me for a moment without saying anything. Then she smiled.

"You finally made it."

I laughed because I was certain she had mistaken me for somebody else. She stepped aside anyway, leaving the decision entirely in my hands.

Inside, soft music played beneath the sound of rain against enormous windows. The city looked impossibly distant. We talked for nearly an hour, discovering that the mysterious stranger was considerably less mysterious once she started laughing.

Yet every time our eyes met, the room seemed quieter. There was something exciting about the pause between words, something neither of us seemed interested in explaining.

She arrived wearing a black dress and a silver bracelet that caught the candlelight whenever she moved her hand.

"Is anyone sitting here?"

"Not anymore."

She smiled at the answer and sat down.

We talked about everything except why she had chosen that particular table. Music floated through the room, glasses clinked softly and the rain outside turned the windows into mirrors.

Eventually she leaned closer, lowering her voice as if she were sharing a secret.

"You know what I like about this place?"

I shook my head.

"Nobody rushes anything."

She was right. The entire evening seemed designed around anticipation. Another conversation. Another smile. Another moment where neither of us looked away first.

She was standing near the railing, holding two glasses.

"I guessed you would come."

"You sound very confident."

"Maybe I am."

That confidence was impossible not to notice. She had the kind of presence that made a crowded room feel smaller and a quiet room feel intimate.

We talked until the bartender announced last call. Neither of us moved.

Finally she looked toward the elevator.

"One more drink?"

I smiled.

"I thought you said that was the last one."

"I changed my mind."

The doors opened. We stepped inside. Neither of us pressed the button immediately.

"Meet me upstairs later."

No name. No explanation. Just four words.

I spent the next twenty minutes pretending not to be curious. Eventually curiosity won.

Upstairs, the hallway was illuminated by small lamps reflected in polished black marble. At the end was a balcony overlooking the city.

She was already there.

"You came."

"You left a mysterious note."

"I wanted to see if you were brave enough."

I stepped beside her and looked over the skyline. Neither of us spoke for several seconds.

Sometimes silence can be more revealing than a conversation. That night, it certainly was.