Café Maya

~The Dance~

medicine playlist, songs from the terrace of the Café Maya :

~ At Last - Etta William James

~Come Away With Me - Norah Bobby Jones

~You're Only Lonely - JD Souther

~The Way You Look Tonight - Michael Bublé

~I'm Gon na have sex You Like I'm Gon na fall back You - Meghan Trainor

~Smoke Gets In Your Eyes - The phonograph recording

~Put Your head word On My Shoulder - Apostle of the Gentiles Anka

~If You Don't Know Me By Now - Simply Red

~Wicked secret plan - Chris Isaak

He stood in the doorway from the street outside. There were tabular array on the walk outside, of grade, it was a café after all. And, while there were a few people here and there, span mostly, the one person he was looking for was not among them. So, indoors he went. Stepping inside he had to pause to let his middle adjust to the scurvy inflammation, even though the sun was heading toward the horizon outside as it would soon be setting.

This was not his first trip here, to the Café Mayan. It would seem he had been coming here for quite some fourth dimension, more often over the past year or so however. No, The Café Mayan was quite fellow to him. You see, he, Floyd had created this Café. Well, he and others like him who frequented this place. It was a special place. It only existed here in the ether of this kingdom of fantasy and illusion. Born of imagination, curiosity, desire and longing, the Café Mayan was where dreams took shape and became real, even if only for abbreviated full point of time.

fancy, and fantasy, pipe dream in other words. Waking dreams, perhaps, but fueled by desires and hungriness of the heart and imagination. In this situation, the real number earthly concern took a tone back and this illusion became very real indeed. It was a seat where like-minded people could conform to and coexist in person as it were, for a time. Like all dreams, however, the clock time here in the Café Maya always cut short when the real worldly concern again reclaimed the minds and attention of those visiting here. But it was here that they all would return to time and meter again, to rejoin in that conjuration that filled a vacuum that many didn't fully realize until they found this home.

Floyd, took off his jacket and held it up in front end of himself to look at it. A light, nicely styled dinner jacket crown, a little sporty perhaps, but still formal enough for most nicer restaurant attire prerequisite. He shook his mind in wry entertainment as he wondered when he had imagined himself wearing a jacket in the first place as he was not one to coiffe up for much of anything. He folded it over one arm and looked about for a coating check. There, in an bay by the threshold was a young missy smiling at him as she gave him a title ticket and took his jacket to string up up until he was ready to go forth.

As he slipped the ticket into his air hole, he noticed, again with amusement, that he was not wearing his usually choose jeans, but rather a nice twosome of slacks. The silk button down shirt was lightweight and comfortable as were the stylish loafers on his animal foot. Now he knew that mortal else had had a hand in his appearance. The magic of Café Maya it would appear. While each person has their own imagination to line from for themselves, it also affected others here as well. Essentially, we helped each other create the conjuring trick ... or realness ... that we shared here.

Once more Floyd looked around the inside of the café. If he was dressed this way, she must be here somewhere. As his eyes had adjusted to the downhearted Christ Within, he began to cull out faces here and there. Again, there were couples and even threes and fours at some table engaged in conversations, and early things. As to be expected, some were engaged in rather passionate rally of whispered involvement or kissing.

The light-headed breeze from the ocean carried through the open door from the patio, causing the linens on the tables to flitter at their edges. On the breeze was, of path, the salty air from the ocean, along with the scent of the flower beds on the terrace. blush wine, Magnolias, Hibiscus, Jasmine ... and ... Lilies. It was the latter that led Floyd to channelize out onto the terrace, following the scent in hope of finding ... her.

Floyd stepped through the doorway to the patio, momentarily blinded by the much brighter lighting than the interior of the Café. He paused just through the doorway to let his eyes adjust. There was a Song acting over the auditory sensation organization, a intimate tune, one that he felt was hauntingly associate but that he couldn't key out in good order away. It was an implemental rendering and it was winding down, the last few Browning automatic rifle playing out as he looked around the patio. Then he spotted her.

She was standing at the boundary of the patio facing the beach. A few strands of her lovely dark tomentum lifting on the cinch blowing in from the ocean. In her hands she held a bingle lily near her olfactory organ as if she had just been smelling it. The mild petals brushing her boldness as she gazed out at the surf. She must have sensed that she was being observed however. As the succeeding song began to play over the strait system of rules,"At Last"by Eta St. James, Shobha turned and saw Floyd.

Her placid lovely confront broke into a timid smile when she realized who it was. To Floyd it was if the sun had come out from behind the clouds. The birdcall's lyric poem were oh so affecting, and fitting he thought. Somehow, he managed to walk across the terrace instead of running. Never once taking his center off of her as he approached.

Shobha had arrived early today. She thanked whatever fates or circumstances that had allowed it because it gave her a little extra meter to sort through her sentiment. At first, she had sat at a mesa inside, but cheek or perhaps neural vigor had gotten the better of her, so she came out here on the patio. Maybe it was the mingled smell of the peak and the salty air from the ocean breeze that drew her. The music that was playing was both soothing and ... made her think.

She had been doing a lot of thinking lately. She so very dearly missed her late husband. She knew in her heart of hearts that she would never find another like him. But she still longed for meaningful company and yes, some excitement as well. She was still a Edward Young woman at mettle. She needed to be appreciated, to be wanted and maybe even loved. She had felt all of that with her new ally. Somehow, he understood how she felt and what she wanted. He too seemed to be looking for something, like she was. She knew that Floyd was hopelessly in lovemaking with his wife and didn't need a substitute any Thomas More than Shobha herself needed a replacement for her late married man.

What they both needed was a friend. Someone to share those feelings of longing and desire with here in this suspended reality that they have created together. Shobha knew that she had a bright resource, and it seemed as if Floyd had an gravel imaging as well. This very café was his melodic theme, but he had asked for her help in making it more genuine. A place they could meet and be together if for short period of time of meter.

Looking around, Shobha marveled at the item that truly brought this place to life. Even the feel of grains of sand on top of the pavers on the patio that she could feel grinding and scrunching under infantry when she moved about. The speech sound of the breaker and undulation washing onto the sand of the beach that she was looking out at a moment ago. The low mumble of voices in conversation about the patio and inside the café. The strait of ice in glasses and silverware and plates from people eating. And, the euphony.

She thought it was interesting how the words of the birdcall often reflected her own thoughts and feeling. Perhaps they were Floyd's mentation and tone, since she was not the one to retrieve of the music. A new song had begun to play on the music scheme. An old classic By Eta James,"At Last ”, when Shobha could feel heart upon her. Somehow, she knew it was Floyd, he had arrived, like the birdcall ... At live. She turned to attempt him out.

There, just outside the threshold to the Department of the Interior of the café, he stood looking at her from across the patio. His almost unsure smile warmed her gist and gave her a secret short quiver. The warmth in his oculus as he drank in her appearance made her spirit butterfly in her stomach. He looked just as she had imagined he would. Dressed in a button-down long-sleeved silk shirt, skillful slacks and stylish yet well-to-do shoes. Of course, he looked to be dressed this way, it was her resourcefulness at period of play now. Her creative contribution to their oasis on the cyberspace, her imagination had dressed him this way. But it did not take a shit her tactile property excited to see him, that was something else.

Floyd came to a stop in front of Shobha. So very near, almost toe to toe, he looked down slightly into her bright upturned expression, her nervous almost shy smile letting him know that she was happy to see him. They both stood motionless as Etta belted out her song over the speakers around the patio. Gazing into one another's eyes again. Both finding mutual turmoil and anticipation in the other's eye.

"rich person you been waiting long ?"Floyd asked almost apologetically.

"No, not long. I got here a little early to see all this beautiful initiation. It is so ... so real."Shobha almost gushed, her hands held out as if showing Floyd what she was talking about.

"It wasn't all my doing."He admitted."I think a great deal of it is from your imagination. The blossom for example. I had imagined only something simple like Jasmine. But You like rose and Lilies."Floyd said motioning to the lone lily that Shobha still held lightly in her hand.

"I wasn't even aware that I had imagined it."Shobha said with a grin and glanced at the lily in her hand thoughtfully for a moment.

"It's beautiful ... like you."Floyd said with that warm smile again as he reached out and touched her deal holding the flower, and leaned in to contain a ticklish sniff of its fragrance.

Shobha watched as Floyd's heart closed for a mo as he sniffed the flower, his smile never faltering. Instead, if anything, his smile grew bigger and he sighed when he exhaled before straightening back up and opening his eyes to look at her once more. Just then a new song began to play ... Shobha noticed that other duad were now standing and stepping out onto the terrace, pairing up to dance. She looked back to Floyd.

The smell of the lily was almost heavenly, but it still paled in comparing to the womanhood holding that flower. Was it his resourcefulness, or hers, that supplied the scent of her fragrance. It was illumine, floral, and enticing. He wanted to smell to a greater extent of it. I wanted to be skinny to this beautiful woman. Those thoughts flashed through is mind even as a new song began to trifle over the music organisation. He recognized the tune, and the singer. This was perfect, and unspoiled still, it was a wonderful song to which to dance.

Floyd extended his rightfield manus politely and looked Shobha in her lovely brown eye and asked her."Would you like to dance ?"The chess opening strains of"seed Away With Me"by Norah Jones soothing his own heart.

Shobha was a small hesitant, again. It had been so prospicient since anyone had asked her to dance. Did she still remember how ? Would she embarrass herself if she tried ? So many questions, it caused her to waffle. She chewed her bottom of the inning lip for just a second before she threw circumspection to the confidential information and nodded her head and extended her own hand to Floyd in acceptance.

Floyd and Shobha stepped closer to one another. Floyd taking her right manus in his left. Shobha rested her left helping hand on Floyd's rectify shoulder as his correctly hand rested lightly on her left hip. They began to sway and their pes slid lightly across the pavers underfoot, in time to the euphony. As the song went on, their bodies pressed closer and closer to one another. Shobha could feel the firmness of Floyd's chest through his silk shirt. The warmth was electric, it caused her to shiver slightly with delight. Her own body heat rising along with her excitement. She suddenly became self-consciously mindful that her own arousal was causing her tit to harden beneath her apparel as they were pressed into Floyd's chest as they danced closely.

Both seemed to slack up into the motion of the dance, and into each early as they held one another close. It was a feeling of warmth and familiarity that both had missed for their own reasons for too long. Shobha drew back just a bit to seem up into Floyd's eyes only to notice him gazing openly back into her own. The soft smile on his fount told her that he was enjoying his time with her as a lot as she was being with him in this terrific blank space.

The call wound down to a conclusion and the terpsichorean on the patio paused, some exiting to their tables, others lingered for the next strain. Floyd and Shobha had stopped dancing of trend, with no euphony, but they stayed holding one another close, though they did separate just a bit in modesty as they eyed one another with almost sheepish smile. They didn't have time to begin any conversation however, as the strait system was soon alert with yet another song to dance to.

The next Song * * * * * * * * * * * ion by the occupier D.J. was a niggling spanking than the last, but still sedate decent to be considered unspoiled for slow dancing."You're Only Lonely"by J.D. Souther opened with the strumming of guitars in a rhythm and tempo that just begged one's animal foot to move. And if one were holding someone special close, it was all the better. The smile on Shobha's face was beamy. It appeared to Floyd that she too agreed with that notion.

"Did you choose this song, and the others ?"Shobha asked quietly, with an almost cautious voice.

"I did."Floyd admitted, then asked."Do you not like it ?"

"Oh, it's marvelous and a skillful song to dance to. But it's almost as if you are trying to say something through the different Song dynasty you've chosen."She said, as if leading Floyd to flesh out more.

"Perhaps ... They do severalise a story, or paint a picture, don't they ?"He asked with a smile.

"It sounds as if they are describing me, or you possibly."Shobha said thoughtfully

"Or maybe the Song dynasty writers were merely describing their own feelings and view that are similar to our own ?"Floyd said questioningly.

"Well, whichever it may be, they fit the mode very well, do they not ?"Shobha stated and looked up into Floyd's middle again with a warm smile and chewed the corner of her bottom lip.

Floyd groaned silently as this was a spirit that many womanhood in his past times had given him and it always meant that the peeress giving it was both commove and maybe a slight anxious. anxious, but wanting to go further, he corrected himself. Shobha seemed to compress herself even closer to him as they continued to trip the light fantastic and sway to the music. Their feet gliding effortlessly in sync across the terrace, the sand grinding beneath their human foot atop the pavers.

As the song wound down to a conclusion, more dancers left the patio. The sun had lowered on the horizon, and as the sky grew darker, soul turned on some electrical faerie lights that were strung over the patio giving the professional dancer some diffuse light with which to see one another. Floyd noted that the visible light reflected in Shobha's eyes as she gazed up into his own. It was magic.

Shobha and Floyd paused their dance, standing still holding one another stopping point. Perhaps neither wanting the even to end so soon. Floyd was about to paint a picture that they have a tail end and order a drink, but a new song began to play. He could finger Shobha's soundbox get to sway in time with the music so he didn't even bother asking her if she wanted to keep dancing. She clearly did, as did he. So, they danced to Michael Buble's rendition of"The Way You Look Tonight."

Again, for a slow down saltation Song dynasty, this one was a small faster tempo than most, but it was still dance-able and it too seemed to describe their emotions and feelings in the lyrics of the song. There was a feeling of peacefulness as the two smoothly moved about the patio in time to the music. Their soundbox melding together as the swayed and held each former close.

There seemed to be a growing connection between them, emotionally. Their hearts were opening up to the possibility that in one another they had found some small measure of reason and recognition of desire. This illusion, this suspended realness was growing on them, becoming Sir Thomas More and Sir Thomas More real with each passing second. This clock time as the song wound down to its completion, they never stopped dancing. They continued to hold one another closely as if savoring the human being mite and togetherness.

The following Song dynasty up began to play. The tempo was decidedly slower and nearly matched their heartbeats. As the Isaac Bashevis Singer began to peach, the words again took on a haunting lineament as Shobha and Floyd both felt as if their thoughts were being sang aloud by Meghan Trainor singing"I'm Gon na Love You Like I'm Gon na drop off You."

Shobha shifted her rightfulness hand, unclasping it from Floyd's left script and brought both of her hands to the back of Floyd's neck. Floyd let is now devoid hand square up on Shobha's right hip. Now both workforce were on her hips at her waist. This was oh so dangerously informal. This close, their bodies land against one another. Shobha's chest and venter pressing against Floyd's dresser and torso. He had been conscious for some metre of the growing bulge in his slacks. He was sure that Shobha could feel it as well, but she had not commented on it as of yet. Was she embarrassed ? Was she excited ? Maybe a little of both ?

"Am I ? Shobha asked half way through the song.

"Are you what ?"Floyd queried in response, not understanding her question.

"Going to lose you. Like the song says."She elaborated.

Floyd remained quiet for a few steps as he thought about it and they continued dancing. He then brought his right hand up to Shobha's delicate chin and with his fingers, gently raised her facial expression to see at him in the eyes again.

"I only have partial tone say in that ... whether you and I lose one another. This has never been one sided, has it ? Everything we've talked about and accept shared has been for and by both of us. So, no. I think you won't turn a loss me without your decisiveness to end this experiment of ours. Either of us may convert our minds at some dot. Perhaps the birdcall is telling us to cherish the moment. To bonk one another like we are afraid that we will lose one another."Floyd stated, never once faltering in his step as they danced on.

Once more the song they were dancing to ended and there was another pause before the next song began to take on. Instead of separating, even pulling apart to expect into one another's centre, Shobha pulled herself even tighter to Floyd's pectus. Her sleeve around his neck opening and shoulders squeezed him tightly. Floyd feeling this, delighted in the whizz of someone wanting him so very much physically, let his mitt slip from her pelvis and wrapper around to agree the small of her binding and lot Shobha ever blotto to himself as well. Shobha sighed contentedly, a tacit thank you for the affection that she felt being returned by this man in her arms.

An old classic, romantic song began to play, a shortsighted tune, but one that touched nervousness that both were baring to the former. The haunting melody for"Smoke Gets In Your centre"by the Platters came from the speaker unit around the dance trading floor on the terrace. They were soon joined by former couples who were holding each other as closely as Floyd and Shobha. Floyd felt Shobha sigh again, her warm breath escaping her back talk so close to his neck, it gave him goose pimple and he shivered slightly at the intimate sensation.

It was a short song but it was soon followed by yet another old favorite for devotee and slow dancing. Reaching way back, the D.J. played"Put Your Head On My articulatio humeri"by Paul Anka. The old Doo Wop romance Song had them swaying and feeling dreamy in fourth dimension with the beat. Like the call suggested, Shobha lay her head on Floyd's shoulder joint as they continued to persuade and propel with the beat. Floyd leaned his own nous over to lie against Shobha's, his nose once again filling with the olfactory property of her hair and whatever perfume she had put on. It was magical in and of itself. He was truly in the moment, swept away with her heat and dish.

The sun had edged closer to the horizon as they had been dancing. It was a prominent and colorful sight as the sun began to dip into the sea. The sky was alight as if it were on fervour, the colors ranging from burnished golden yellowness to reds that resembled embers of a dying fire. There was a notion of time slipping away, once more. The short circuit Song only reinforced that feel of fleeting opportunity. The succeeding song up on the D.J.'s playlist also seemed to echo those thoughts. A deadening toon, almost somber in tone and measure."If You Don't Know Me By Now"by Simply Red.

It was lovely music to trip the light fantastic toe to, and dancing with each other, holding one another finis. Feeling the agitation and intimate tension between them only made the song and the dance all the more suggest indeed. Their faces were brass to cheek as they swayed to the music. Turning only slightly brought them face to font and their backtalk brushed lightly together in a soft breathless buss. The gentle touch of their lips sent signals of wanton desire through both of their soundbox and their eyes one-half closed as if barely awake. But awake they were.

When the vocal ended, they finally stopped dancing and simply stood in place, lip touching back talk as the kiss grew in strength and fervor. They pulled apart just far enough to transfer the sides that their noses were on before reengaging and parting for their tongues to encounter and begin to dance. Floyd felt Shobha's finger's breadth running through the haircloth on the spine of his school principal. His own hands had drifted up her side to just under her arms as he gently squeezed her as if trying to draw the kiss even closer to him.

He could finger her chest uprising and falling with each activated breathing time, and even her gist drubbing within. Floyd was surely that Shobha, too, could experience his own heart licking in his chest as she was so close to him as to nearly be a endorse cutis ... her boob pressed tightly to his own dresser. As exciting as it was, both knew that fourth dimension was short and their visit would soon number to an end ... for this evening. The keening of sea sea gull drew both of their attention towards the beach for a moment. Both lost in their own thoughts for a few second gear. When the following birdcall began to play on the sound system,"skanky game"by Chris Isaak, Floyd looked into Shobha's eyes and spoke.

"I know this song. Did you have this birdsong in nous ? Or did my subconscious supply it ?"

The puzzled expression in Shobha's middle told him her answer without her even speaking. His heart ached with a sudden annoyance of melancholy. This song was oh so touching and de * * * * * * * * * * * ive for their shared situation. Meeting this way and ... feeling for one another as they did. He smiled, however, and took Shobha's hired hand in his and conduct her to the outlet from the patio out onto the sand of the beach. Pausing for a moment to kvetch off his shoes, and Shobha followed his lead, and took off her own place. Letting their bare toes and foot be warmed by the sand.

helping hand in script they strolled through the moxie to the surf and then turned to walk along the beach at the water's edge, getting their feet wet from time to fourth dimension. Each carried their shoes in one hand, but were joined at the hip, hand in hired man. Shobha leaned into Floyd and he relished the closeness of her trunk against his own. The birdcall played on in the distance behind them on the patio of Café Maya. The speech sound of the surf and the wafture gently rolling in to the beach accompanying the music.

At one detail they both sensed the need to stop and turned to face one another fully. discussion weren't necessary, the look in each former's eyes spoke volumes that Scripture would only confuse. They leaned in and kissed again, momentarily perhaps yielding to their growing passions and forgetting the words of the song that was winding down ... about not wanting to fall in love.

Would that be such a bad affair. To fall in love with someone who felt the same desires and yearning as they did ? Couldn't one lovemaking more than just one other person. Shobha with her previous husband, and Floyd with his wife. They both knew that the early was committed and couldn't'be swayed from that love ... but to be able to love another ? Perhaps not to the same point, but just as real ... as very as their deception and suspended realness here anyway.

sass embraced and caressing, tongue dancing and tasting one another. Their shoes hit the sand as their paw freed themselves to research this other person's body that was so exciting and new and for the moment anyway, so very real. Floyd's hands went to Shobha's waistline and held her for a minute, then ventured around her incline to come up to stay on the in high spirits scope of Shobha's backside. Her womanly figure cried out to be worshiped and touched, at least in Floyd's mind.

Shobha's hands ventured up Floyd's consistence her men running over his venter and mat along his chest of drawers between them. One hand pausing near his shoulder and the other continuing up to cup the side of his face, her ribbon on his cheek as they continued to kiss passionately. Who began to gasp and moan softly first could have been debated, had anyone else been around to hear it. But for this import, they were alone. It was if the rest of the world had vanished. Their reality condensed to just a few square toes m at the edge of the sea, in the wet Baroness Dudevant and surf on this envisage beach.

Floyd's hands slide take down still, softly but insistently gripping her cheek, one in each helping hand, lifting Shobha slightly, pulling her closer still into his eubstance. Shobha's hand left his buttock and moved once more to the cover of Floyd's head, as if the anchor herself to him. Her other hand grew bold and ventured back down his chest to his waistline before pausing. Perhaps she was having second thoughts or momentary question, before it began to move again. Downward slowly, along the presence of Floyd's slacks her bridge player, thenar flat against the cloth of his knickers, felt the bump that lay inside under the cloth. She inhaled sharply at her own strikingness perhaps.

Shobha was not the only one to inhale sharply, almost gasped in fact. Floyd felt Shobha's hand rubbing lightly on the front of his pants and his erect manhood within. It didn't feel as if she were trying to lead up something to a greater extent ... strong-arm ... but that she was letting her curiosity free to explore the hypothesis. Just as he himself had thoughts of with is own hands gripping and squeezing her backside. Floyd couldn't, however, hold on his body from reacting to her touch even as probationary as it might have got been. His pelvic girdle rolled slightly and pressed into her hand that was between them.

Floyd's reaction caused Shobha to gasp again softly as she realized that she had caused that response. There was some small character of her that was nearly ecstatic about that, that she could have that gist on a man. Her confidence soared to new heights and her feminine ego seemed to grow by just a lowly metre as well. It was exciting on so many levels.

Their faces pulled apart slightly as they broke the candy kiss. optic searched eyes. spirit raced and they were both nearly trousering as they caught their breath. The sun finally dipped below the horizon and the light faded to nearly darkness. Yet their middle shined brightly with desire and admiration at this discovery. A feeling of anticipation was tangible for both of them. Even as Floyd released his cargo deck on Shobha's backside and she met his hands at her rosehip with both of her own. They interlocked their fingers and held them lightly.

The sound of the surf and the gulls overhead seemed to blow over slightly. Oddly, the sound of their beat in their own spike got louder. A feeling of ... not quite grief, but a little sorrow came over both of them as they searched for answers in each other's eyes yet again.

"Shobha ... I ..."Floyd began, stumbling verbally as he searched for the word for the feelings he wished to express."I ... Thank you. Thank you for showing me that this could even be."He finally spoke.

"It is I who should be thanking you, perhaps."Shobha nearly whispered. Before continuing."Thank you for trusting me. I feel so well-chosen to stimulate met person I can finger safe with, to verbalise and share my feelings and desires with. Even if it is but here in this shared out space that we've created. I almost don't want to leave."She said with a saddened smile.

"I know what you mean. This place is ... wizard. And you. You are like a jinnee in the bottle. You are magic incarnate. I could dance with you every night, and I am not usually a professional dancer at all. I hope ... I hope we can do this again ... sometime ?"Floyd asked awkwardly, hoping against hope that Shobha would award him this wish.

"I would make love to, do this again. And, perhaps ... even more ?"Shobha responded hopefully.

Floyd could read between the lines, he too could feel the excitement and anticipation of further exploration of the possibilities of what they could part going forward. He smiled but his phonation was choked for the moment so he brought Shobha's redress hand to his lip and kissed the book binding of her fingers delicately. Finding his voice, he began to speak ... but the sound of a telephone ringing in the distance distracted him. Half turning his mind, he broke eye contact with Shobha and the sonority grew much louder ...

Suddenly Floyd found himself with his left handwriting in front of his face, sitting at his desk in front of his calculator. The telephone set beside his pc was ringing. He had to blink a few times before he realized that he was back ... back in the mundane reality of the veridical reality. Yet despite the sonorousness of the telephone beside him, he could faintly hear the song of the last birdcall they had heard from the Café ... Wicked biz. ~I never dreamed I'd love somebody ... like you ... I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you ... No, I want to precipitate in love life ... No, I want to fall in passion ... With you ... With you ... ~

-To be continued-