The Sweet Seduction of Sofia

***As promised...one of my writing course exercises. This was SO much fun. We were to pick a number between 100 and 999. Each number was represented by a word on a chart. I picked 993; my words were actioneer, violin and hotel. The assignment was to write a paragraph about these three things. For me, this was the first REAL writing i've done. Everything up til now has been more like journaling...and that's easy. I had no idea how this story would turn out when i started it and i had no idea i could write about things i dont' know about. (Oh, and i already apologized to Barbara for using her name.)***

Another day at the office. Another day of describing some beautiful, and some not-so-beautiful pieces to God-awful, pretentious, rich folk. I hate the speed talking. Most find me entertaining in that clown-here-to-amuse-you kind of way. It makes me sick. But I have to work, and I was “blessed” with this speed-speak, so here I am. Coming up on my 25th anniversary, too. That’s about 9000 days give or take a few of droning on about this painting or that vaaazzz. Why is it that rich people can’t say vase, anyhow? Here comes the next piece I have to make “sexy.” A violin. An early 18th century Stradivari made. What a beauty. The extended neck and the curve of the wooden waist transport me back almost instantly to a lazy summer afternoon with Sofia. That tiny hotel in the coastal Napoli had become our regular meeting place whenever we could get away. Sofia was the only one, with her dark hair and darker eyes, who could ever make me deceive Barbara. Afternoons with Sofia were heaven. Lying, half clothed, with the afterglow of forbidden love, she’d reach for the violin. The sounds that came next were so sweet and delicious; they provoked a worship that I’d never feel for another woman.