He already knows too much. Way too much.
Now he comes into my field of vision. He enters the wooden terrace in front of the glass front. Hands buried in his jacket pockets, collar pulled up to his ears, he gazes out at the sea. And I watch him, trying to understand what's happening between us.
As always, his camera dangles by his side, and once again, I admire his talent for capturing these incredibly atmospheric photos. They are like a magnificent design—you just have to look at them to get lost in them.
I feel a warm smile on my face. A picture takes shape in my mind.
There's fine linen. Navy blue. Stitching in light gray. A pointed lapel. Subtle darts at the waist.
Dreamily, I push the laptop aside and bring the notepad closer. I flip to the next blank page and start putting my thoughts on paper.
I sketch the outline of a man. Then I draw the jacket, the matching trousers with pleats, and complete the design with angular leather shoes. An exciting tingle runs through me. So many years have passed since I last designed something myself. Nevertheless, my fingers still remember how it works.
This is by no means perfect. I definitely need colors to enhance the ballpoint pen drawing.
Motivated, I jump up and walk into the bedroom, which has been mine for as long as I can remember. There, in the low dresser next to the sewing machine and the threads, it should be.
Indeed. Covered in a thick layer of dust, the colored pencil set lies right where I stashed it over ten years ago.
A wild mixture of excitement and joy floods over me. I pick it up and wipe the dirt off the leather case on my way back down. Back at the desk, I ceremoniously open the case.
"Oh Rainbow," I whisper. "I've missed you."
I confidently grab the navy blue pencil and work on the details of my design. I give the jacket fabric a modern texture, add a matching tie, and draw a watch around the model's wrist.
With each additional color, the image comes to life more. Just as I learned at fashion school, I note down information about the fabrics and hints for creating the pattern templates. Finally, I give the model a face.
A rugged one. With a three-day beard and hair that sticks out wildly in all directions. And a mischievous grin on his lips.
"Hello, handsome," I murmur to him and place a mole on his neck. Then I take care of the final touches. "Someone like you should definitely not be alone, I think. Shall I paint you a woman?"
"Oh yes, please," I reply to myself in a deep voice.
"Coming right up." Carefully, I detach the sheet with the design from the pad and place it in front of me so I can see it while envisioning the contours of his lover's dress in my mind.
