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Echoes of the Past
It was a cheap room in a cheap hotel he knew well. The only furnishings were a bed, a chair, and a small bedside table. The bathroom light was on casting a dim glow.
Jenny, a woman in her early twenties, stood by the bed with a small, knowing smile on her face.
“Mr. Weiss? Is that you,” she asked in a voice he remembered.
Mr. Weiss, a man in his late fifties, stepped closer and adjusted his glasses.
“Oh my. Is it Jenny?” As he said, the words, he felt the heat of a blush across his face.
“Yes, it’s me,” Jenny replied, her smile dimming as her eyes look away from Mr. Weiss and then back to him, her head tilting as if studying him.
“I remember your kindness,” she said at last.
“You were a good student, Jenny. One of the best.”
“I remember you telling us to seek learning and wisdom. I’m sorry for you to see me here,” Jenny said.
Mr. Weiss with a rueful smile said, “I’ve sought wisdom but fallen very short. The more I learn of life, the less I understand. And now, seeing you...” His voice trailed off. “It's as if time has played a cruel trick on us both.”
Jenny: (Reaching out, touching his hand) “We are older, Mr. Weiss, but that doesn't mean we're any less alive. Sometimes, the heart grows hungry for more than just knowledge.”
Mr. Weiss blushed again realizing he’d never felt Jenny’s touch as a student through they were close.
“Yes, hungry...” Mr. Weiss shakes his head. “But what am I saying? You were my student, and I...”
Jenny inserted, “We’re just two souls who once shared a classroom and now we meet again, Mr. Weiss. The past is a shadow; it doesn't define us now.”
“Jenny, I—” Mr. Weiss stops with a questioning look.
Jenny speaks up now with a more mature voice. “I know why you’re here. Do you still want me?”
“Yes,” answered Mr. Weiss.
As Jenny turned away and unbuttoned her blouse, Mr. Weiss was transfixed and gazed at her form. Her blouse fell to the floor and he saw the smoothness of her back. As she began to unsnap her jeans, he placed an envelope on her bedside table. When she turned around, he'd disappeared through the doorway.
Jenny, a woman in her early twenties, stood by the bed with a small, knowing smile on her face.
“Mr. Weiss? Is that you,” she asked in a voice he remembered.
Mr. Weiss, a man in his late fifties, stepped closer and adjusted his glasses.
“Oh my. Is it Jenny?” As he said, the words, he felt the heat of a blush across his face.
“Yes, it’s me,” Jenny replied, her smile dimming as her eyes look away from Mr. Weiss and then back to him, her head tilting as if studying him.
“I remember your kindness,” she said at last.
“You were a good student, Jenny. One of the best.”
“I remember you telling us to seek learning and wisdom. I’m sorry for you to see me here,” Jenny said.
Mr. Weiss with a rueful smile said, “I’ve sought wisdom but fallen very short. The more I learn of life, the less I understand. And now, seeing you...” His voice trailed off. “It's as if time has played a cruel trick on us both.”
Jenny: (Reaching out, touching his hand) “We are older, Mr. Weiss, but that doesn't mean we're any less alive. Sometimes, the heart grows hungry for more than just knowledge.”
Mr. Weiss blushed again realizing he’d never felt Jenny’s touch as a student through they were close.
“Yes, hungry...” Mr. Weiss shakes his head. “But what am I saying? You were my student, and I...”
Jenny inserted, “We’re just two souls who once shared a classroom and now we meet again, Mr. Weiss. The past is a shadow; it doesn't define us now.”
“Jenny, I—” Mr. Weiss stops with a questioning look.
Jenny speaks up now with a more mature voice. “I know why you’re here. Do you still want me?”
“Yes,” answered Mr. Weiss.
As Jenny turned away and unbuttoned her blouse, Mr. Weiss was transfixed and gazed at her form. Her blouse fell to the floor and he saw the smoothness of her back. As she began to unsnap her jeans, he placed an envelope on her bedside table. When she turned around, he'd disappeared through the doorway.
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