Emily

There was a feel of snow in the air. It felt much like it does when I open my freezer to get out ice and the cold air escapes in front of me. I could see my own puffs of air as I caught my breath. The damp coldness chilled the evening as if there were tiny particles of ice too small to create snow flakes. I walked my usual stroll, not too slow, but not brisk enough to really burn many calories for I never felt like I had to hurry anywhere, except when I would hear the sound of a subway train roaring down the tracks toward my destination as I would be walking, then running down the subway stairs, then to the turnstile where I almost always came to an abrupt stop when the machine would not accept my first or second swipe of my metro card. So, this time, once again, I surrendered and let the number of people behind me go through as I walked over to see the attendant at the window. "Excuse me, but, I need to put some money on my card"—the train slowly made its way out of the station without me, as the lady gave my card back to me with a confusing look—"Honey, you have a week to go before you have to fill it again." I cursed my usual sailor words under my breath so that no one heard and walked back to the turnstile, realizing after I sat a while on the bench waiting for the next train that the only person I had pissed off is myself with my callous words.
::
This night, though, had another feel—a feel of excitement. And as I walked down 57th Street I passed by the Hard Rock Café that I hadn't been to since the first time I moved to New York. I also passed by the Russian Tea Room and felt a sense of pride, because I had managed to learn to read some Russian and speak it somewhat fluently during my two year stay in Los Angeles only a few years before this recent move back to New York. Then I passed by the Motown Café. I suddenly saw across the street the Oyster Bar that the person I was to meet that evening had forewarned me about, "I live above the Oyster Bar, but you may want to avoid eating there." I smiled knowing that I had reached my destination.
::
I walked across Avenue of the Americas and walked toward the double glass doors and before I could open the door to go in a very pleasant man opened the door for me and greeted me with a smile. I told him I was there to see Dr. Sarandein. He politely asked my name and then called on a phone and said, "Kim is here," and he motioned for me to go on through the hallway and toward the front desk of the lobby where I met another gentleman who directed me toward the elevator. I waited for what seemed like an eternity and then for a brief moment I stole a glance at myself in the huge mirror that went all the way up to the ceiling as I walked onto the elevator. The light sound of the bell rang and I walked out onto the twenty-sixth floor glancing noticingly at the purple carpet and lavender wall in front of me. But I quickly turned right as there was a slight rustling sound and the most beautiful woman I had ever seen was standing at the end of the hallway in a dress that delicately fell below her knees more elegantly than I had ever seen anyone wear in my life. It was a dark grayish dress that tapered along her sexy figure and as I walked closer I could see it had an august fur that trimmed the hem of the long dress. Her hair was big. It was down below her shoulders and loose curls slightly feathered away from her lovely face.
::
"Hi Kim," she said in a discreet low voice, "you found me!"