Nervously she lay down on the bed. There was still a little light coming from the high windows of the richly-furnished room, but her instructions had been very clear; he would come only when it was dark, so dark that she would not be able to see even the vaguest outline of him.
She had discarded her robe at the door, and the warm breeze seemed to prefigure her lover, gently caressing her naked body. She closed her eyes, trying to simulate the darkness that would soon fall, then opened them again, willing it to be dark, as if by wishing she could quench the last glimmers of daylight.
Finally darkness fell, and deprived of sight, her other senses reached out. The faint scent of flowers; the breeze still moving gently over her bare skin; even the lingering taste of the fruit that had been her last meal before entering the domain of the one who would become her lover. Her heart leaped at every slight sound; a rustling in the leaves outside, the faint rippling of the stream.
Then the unmistakable sound of light footsteps, approaching her. Her head swam briefly; she wondered if she would be able to stop herself crying out in surprise at his touch. In a moment that came and passed almost before it had begun, she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder, resting there, not moving.
