Cafe Maya The Dance

Café Maya

~The Dance~

Music playlist, songs from the patio of the Café Maya:

~ At Last -- Etta James

~Come Away With Me -- Norah Jones

~You're Only Lonely -- JD Souther

~The Way You Look Tonight -- Michael Bublé

~I'm Gonna Love You Like I'm Gonna Lose You -- Meghan Trainor

~Smoke Gets In Your Eyes -- The Platters

~Put Your Head On My Shoulder -- Paul Anka

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

~Wicked Game -- Chris Isaak

He stood in the doorway from the street outside. There were tables on the walk outside, of course, it was a café after all. And, while there were a few people here and there, couples 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 eyes adjust to the lower lighting, 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 Maya. It would seem he had been coming here for quite some time, more often over the past year or so however. No, The Café Maya was quite familiar 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 realm of fantasy and illusion. Born of imagination, curiosity, desire and longing, the Café Maya was where dreams took shape and became real, even if only for brief periods of time.

Illusion, and fantasy, dreams in other words. Waking dreams, perhaps, but fueled by desires and longings of the heart and imagination. In this place, the real world took a step back and this illusion became very real indeed. It was a place where like-minded people could meet and coexist in person as it were, for a time. Like all dreams, however, the time here in the Café Maya always cut short when the real world again reclaimed the minds and attention of those visiting here. But it was here that they all would return to time and time again, to rejoin in that illusion that filled a void that many didn't fully realize until they found this place.

Floyd, took off his jacket and held it up in front of himself to look at it. A light, nicely styled dinner jacket, a little sporty perhaps, but still formal enough for most nicer restaurants dress requirements. He shook his head in wry amusement as he wondered when he had imagined himself wearing a jacket in the first place as he was not one to dress up for much of anything. He folded it over one arm and looked about for a coat check. There, in an alcove by the door was a young girl smiling at him as she gave him a claim ticket and took his jacket to hang up until he was ready to leave.

As he slipped the ticket into his pocket, he noticed, again with amusement, that he was not wearing his usually preferred jeans, but rather a nice pair of slacks. The silk button down shirt was lightweight and comfortable as were the stylish loafers on his feet. Now he knew that someone else had had a hand in his appearance. The magic of Café Maya it would seem. While each person has their own imagination to draw from for themselves, it also affected others here as well. Essentially, we helped each other create the illusion... or reality... 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 lower light, he began to pick out faces here and there. Again, there were couples and even threes and fours at some tables engaged in conversations, and other things. As to be expected, some were engaged in rather passionate exchanges of whispered intimacies or kissing.

The light breeze from the ocean carried through the open doorway from the patio, causing the linens on the tables to flutter at their edges. On the breeze was, of course, the salty air from the ocean, along with the scent of the flower beds on the patio. Roses, Magnolias, Hibiscus, Jasmine... and... Lilies. It was the latter that led Floyd to head out onto the patio, following the scent in hopes 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 door to let his eyes adjust. There was a song playing over the sound system, a familiar tune, one that he felt was hauntingly familiar but that he couldn't identify right away. It was an instrumental version and It was winding down, the last few bars playing out as he looked around the patio. Then he spotted her.

She was standing at the edge of the patio facing the beach. A few strands of her lovely dark hair lifting on the breeze blowing in from the ocean. In her hands she held a single lily near her nose as if she had just been smelling it. The soft petals brushing her cheek as she gazed out at the surf. She must have sensed that she was being observed however. As the next song began to play over the sound system, "At Last" by Eta James, Shobha turned and saw Floyd.

Her placid lovely face 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 song's lyrics were oh so poignant, and fitting he thought. Somehow, he managed to walk across the patio instead of running. Never once taking his eyes 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 time to sort through her thoughts. At first, she had sat at a table inside, but nerves or perhaps nervous energy had gotten the better of her, so she came out here on the patio. Maybe it was the mingled smell of the flowers 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 young woman at heart. She needed to be appreciated, to be wanted and maybe even loved. She had felt all of that with her new friend. 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 love with his wife and didn't need a substitute any more than Shobha herself needed a substitute for her late husband.

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 vivid imagination, and it seemed as if Floyd had an amazing imagination as well. This very café was his idea, but he had asked for her help in making it more real. A place they could meet and be together if for short periods of time.

Looking around, Shobha marveled at the detail 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 foot when she moved about. The sound of the surf and waves 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 sound of ice in glasses and silverware and plates from people eating. And, the music.

She thought it was interesting how the lyrics of the songs often reflected her own thoughts and feelings. Perhaps they were Floyd's thoughts and feelings, since she was not the one to think of the music. A new song had begun to play on the music system. An old classic By Eta James, "At Last", when Shobha could feel eyes upon her. Somehow, she knew it was Floyd, he had arrived, like the song... At last. She turned to seek him out.

There, just outside the door to the interior of the café, he stood looking at her from across the patio. His almost timid smile warmed her heart and gave her a secret little thrill. The warmth in his eyes as he drank in her appearance made her feel butterflies in her stomach. He looked just as she had imagined he would. Dressed in a button-down long-sleeved silk shirt, nice slacks and stylish yet comfortable shoes. Of course, he looked to be dressed this way, it was her imagination at play now. Her creative contribution to their oasis on the internet, her imagination had dressed him this way. But it did not make her feel 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 face, 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 excitement and anticipation in the other's eyes.

"Have you been waiting long?" Floyd asked almost apologetically.

"No, not long. I got here a little early to see all this beautiful creation. 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 flowers for example. I had imagined only something simple like Jasmine. But You like roses 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 smile 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 hand holding the flower, and leaned in to take a delicate sniff of its fragrance.

Shobha watched as Floyd's eyes closed for a moment 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 couples were now standing and stepping out onto the patio, pairing up to dance. She looked back to Floyd.

The scent of the lily was almost heavenly, but it still paled in comparison to the woman holding that flower. Was it his imagination, or hers, that supplied the scent of her perfume. It was light, floral, and enticing. He wanted to smell more of it. I wanted to be closer to this beautiful woman. Those thoughts flashed through is mind even as a new song began to play over the music system. He recognized the tune, and the singer. This was perfect, and better still, it was a wonderful song to which to dance.

Floyd extended his right hand politely and looked Shobha in her lovely brown eyes and asked her. "Would you like to dance?" The opening strains of "Come Away With Me" by Norah Jones soothing his own nerves.

Shobha was a little hesitant, again. It had been so long 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 hesitate. She chewed her bottom lip for just a moment before she threw caution to the wind 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 hand in his left. Shobha rested her left hand on Floyd's right shoulder as his right hand rested lightly on her left hip. They began to sway and their feet slid lightly across the pavers underfoot, in time to the music. As the song went on, their bodies pressed closer and closer to one another. Shoba 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 aware that her own arousal was causing her nipples to harden beneath her dress as they were pressed into Floyd's chest as they danced closely.

Both seemed to relax into the motion of the dance, and into each other 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 look up into Floyd's eyes only to find him gazing openly back into her own. The soft smile on his face told her that he was enjoying his time with her as much as she was being with him in this wonderful place.

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

The next song selection by the resident D.J. was a little livelier than the last, but still sedate enough to be considered good 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 feet to move. And if one were holding someone special close, it was all the better. The smile on Shobha's face was radiant. 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 timid voice.

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

"Oh, it's wonderful and a nice song to dance to. But it's almost as if you are trying to say something through the different songs you've chosen." She said, as if leading Floyd to elaborate more.

"Perhaps... They do tell 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 writers were merely describing their own feelings and thoughts that are similar to our own?" Floyd said questioningly.

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

Floyd groaned silently as this was a look that many women in his past had given him and it always meant that the lady giving it was both excited and maybe a little anxious. Anxious, but wanting to go further, he corrected himself. Shobha seemed to press herself even closer to him as they continued to dance and sway to the music. Their feet gliding effortlessly in sync across the patio, the sand grinding beneath their feet 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, someone turned on some electric fairy lights that were strung over the patio giving the dancers some soft lighting with which to see one another. Floyd noted that the lights reflected in Shobha's eyes as she gazed up into his own. It was magical.

Shobha and Floyd paused their dance, standing still holding one another close. Perhaps neither wanting the evening to end so soon. Floyd was about to suggest that they have a seat and order a drink, but a new song began to play. He could feel Shobha's body begin to sway in time with the music so he didn't even bother asking her if she wanted to continue 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 dancing song, this one was a little 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 bodies melding together as the swayed and held each other 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 understanding and recognition of desire. This illusion, this suspended reality was growing on them, becoming more and more real with each passing moment. This 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 touch and togetherness.

The next song up began to play. The tempo was decidedly slower and nearly matched their heartbeats. As the singer began to sing, the lyrics again took on a haunting quality as Shobha and Floyd both felt as if their thoughts were being sang aloud by Meghan Trainor singing "I'm Gonna Love You Like I'm Gonna Lose You."

Shobha shifted her right hand, unclasping it from Floyd's left hand and brought both of her hands to the back of Floyd's neck. Floyd let is now free hand settle on Shobha's right hip. Now both hands were on her hips at her waist. This was oh so dangerously intimate. This close, their bodies ground against one another. Shobha's breasts and abdomen pressing against Floyd's chest and torso. He had been conscious for some time of the growing bulge in his slacks. He was certain 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 face to look at him in the eyes again.

"I only have partial say in that... whether you and I lose one another. This has never been one sided, has it? Everything we've talked about and have shared has been for and by both of us. So, no. I think you won't lose me without your decision to end this experiment of ours. Either of us may change our minds at some point. Perhaps the song is telling us to cherish the moment. To love 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 play. Instead of separating, even pulling apart to look into one another's eyes, Shobha pulled herself even tighter to Floyd's chest. Her arms around his neck and shoulders squeezed him tightly. Floyd feeling this, delighted in the sensation of someone wanting him so very much physically, let his hands slip from her hips and wrap around to hold the small of her back and draw Shobha ever tighter to himself as well. Shobha sighed contentedly, a silent 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 short tune, but one that touched nerves that both were baring to the other. The haunting melody for "Smoke Gets In Your Eyes" by the Platters came from the speakers around the dance floor on the patio. They were soon joined by other couples who were holding each other as closely as Floyd and Shobha. Floyd felt Shobha sigh again, her warm breath escaping her lips so close to his neck, it gave him goosebumps and he shivered slightly at the intimate sensation.

It was a short song but it was soon followed by yet another old favorite for lovers and slow dancing. Reaching way back, the D.J. played "Put Your Head On My Shoulder" by Paul Anka. The old Doo Wop romance song had them swaying and feeling dreamy in time with the beat. Like the song suggested, Shobha lay her head on Floyd's shoulder as they continued to sway and move with the beat. Floyd leaned his own head over to rest against Shobha's, his nose once again filling with the scent 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 warmth and beauty.