Giovedì, 18 Marzo, 2004 | Posted by Lionel Gerkin at 06:56

Jesus Miguel Luis Rodriguez slapped her face. Silvia's face. His boot thudded into the wooden boards. It caused my glass to shake as it rested on my table a number of meters away.

He slapped her again and he smiled. His pencil thin moustache pinched its way towards his nose which edged away in fear of any contact with the dagger sharp line of hair.

The music ripped through the room in all its physical grandeur. It was the tango, a strident beat that splashed up against the walls as if it was trying to break loose of the room.

Together they danced as lovers and the audience watched as voyeurs. We felt guilty by our stare but could not turn away. I tried.

A sharp glint of light pierced my eye. I looked up and noticed the gold tooth exposed to the lights that struck the dance floor. Jesus Miguel Luis Rodriguez now smiled hugely his teeth bared themselves as he pulled Silvia toward him, close.

I could smell his sweat as it dripped from his brow and raced down her breast, across the flat plains of her stomach that I had caressed earlier that morning. I could feel that bead racing beyond her belly button, and penetrating the area of her pubic hairs.

Jesus Miguel Luis Rodriguez threw back his head in triumph. He flung Silvia away like a rag doll and she sprawled across the floor spent and sated. I saw the look in her eye.

The music stopped, the atmosphere crashed to the floor in relief and the audience exploded with its applause. Both bowed.

He looked at me as he held Silvia tight. His gold tooth on display barred for me to see. The gun in his ankle holster hot, passionate and ready for its turn to dance.