A picture.

Mona sat on the bench staring out at the ocean. The waves came rushing towards the shore like race horses come crashing through the gates on race day, the waves roared like spirited animals only to splinter like crystal shards on the jagged rocks. The wind was howling and the rain felt like little barbs on her bare skin as she stood transfixed next to the wall at ocean beach. The rain this year had been relentless and suffering from cabin fever she had taken the opportunity to go for her daily run while the kids were taking their afternoon nap and her husband was home. This scene reminded her of the picture she had seen some months ago at an art gallery on one of her daily "excursions" as she liked to call it, while her baby girl slept in her stroller and she got a much needed break from the incessant house work, crying children, dirty diapers and spilled food cycle. She took a walk and explored some borough of the beautiful city by the bay.
   Mona had recently moved to San Francisco with her family, her husband had gotten a good job there so they had followed the money trail. Settling in a new city was hard, trying to find like minded friends was even harder. Now, when she had decided to be a stay at home mom for her four precocious little children. The twins girl and boy were 8 and went to school, the baby girl was 5 months and than there was the mischievous 3 year old boy who had thankfully started pre-school so now her afternoons were a little free.
   She bought her mind to the present and looked at her watch, her pace was improving soon she would be able to compete in the half marathon she had been training for. She was reminded of that picture in the gallery again, in a funny way she had made a connection with that art, it felt as if the artist was reading her soul when he had painted that scene. The wild untamed desire she sometimes felt inside almost bursting through her just like the waves crashing on the rocks, surprisingly the artists name had stuck with her all these months it was a poetic name "Shehryar". She let the name roll over her tongue saying it again and again like a caress, she felt a little giddy saying it. It almost felt like a school girl crush, was it possible she thought for a married women of four children to feel such desire for some one she had not even met? Pushing her thoughts aside she started to run again her legs pumped faster and faster as the rain pelted down mercilessly.
  She did not know a lot of people at the party save for a couple of friends, who themselves were busy mingling, she was looking outside the window deep in thought when she felt some one watching her, she turned and her eyes locked with his across the room. It felt as if time had stood still and everyone in that room disappeared, it felt as if he could see all the way through to her soul. The affection in his eyes was unmistakable, but who was he she wondered? he started to come towards her and introduced himself," Hello I am Shehryar." She grinned wow could this be for real, "Are you a painter?"" Yes, I am", he replied. "I saw some of your work at the gallery in downtown."She said, "I really connected with the art." Who are you here with" he asked, "my husband" she replied "it is some office party."
   He felt as if some one had thrown cold water all over him. The desire he had felt upon seeing her, the lust she had enlivened quickly got trampled upon. He wanted to see her again but now the conventions of social norms would prevent him from doing so, yet this thought of social protocol, morality and modesty further heightened his desire to get to know her. He would need to be careful and keep his distance he thought.
 "I am Mona, by the way. we recently moved into the bay area."" Oh, really that is wonderful. I live in North beach my workshop is there also, if you would ever like to come see my art here is my card,"Shehryar said as he extended his hand towards her, she took the card and in doing so their hands lightly brushed. She quickly lowered her gaze as she felt a tingling up her arm and felt heat all the way to her face. "It was nice to meet you she said as she quickly turned to leave," hoping against hope that he had not glimpsed her nervous reaction. What had gotten into her she wondered, why did this man have such an affect on her, she was a happily married woman and no one had plucked at her desire quite like this before. She will never see him again and this thought made her happy yet melancholic at the same time.
 A few days later she was walking through the North beach neighborhood when she saw the picture in his gallery it was calligraphy juxtaposed onto the scene from the night of the party, the same colors the same silhouette of people but what were those words she went in to get a closer look they were words for love, the beloved, the lover in oh so many languages she felt shy as if the painting was meant for her and against her better judgment she opened the door and went into the gallery. She saw his profile as he painted another tumultuous scene of the ocean. She looked at his hands which were covered in paint, she liked the look of his hands they were smooth with neat round nails. Hands more like a surgeon than an artist, not the traditional long lanky fingers one associated with artists. She stood there transfixed by his energy as he worked on his canvas. Such an interesting sensation she thought to just feel happiness being in some one's presence.
 He looked up from his work and saw her, a grin broke over his face. "I had a feeling you will show up at my door one of these days. How are you doing? how have your days and night been treating you", he said. She felt a blush come over her face, she looked at him through hooded eyes wondering if he had felt the same desire as she had. Was he too having sleepless nights and felt himself thinking of her at random times during the day like she felt for him. She smiled and replied "they have not been going particularly well I am afraid." He smiled back and said," I am in the same boat as you. Would you like to join me for a cup of coffee, there is a really good coffee place not two blocks from here." "Yes I would love to, I cant stay long though the baby will wake up soon."Mona said.
   They both ordered a cafe au lait and sat sipping it in silence for a while savoring the taste and each others presence. She looked at him and asked," how does it taste," he flung back his head and laughed "pretty similar to yours I am sure,"" no no I want to know how it tastes to you describe it to me."she said.  Well he said looking deep into her eyes, "it tastes warm, comforting yet sensuous on my tongue." His eyes took on a soft languid look as he said these words. "Now you tell me how does it taste to you Mona."
"It tastes like liquid amber, cinnamon sweet and rich. Tell me Shehryar that painting in your window, the one of the office party, who did you have in mind when you painted that." Shehryar looked at her "you dont know Mona," he asked. She giggled;"well I can venture a guess I some times feel you are talking to me that we are connecting even though we are far apart."" I know what you mean,"  he said, "its like there is some deeper connection, some telepathy between us right as if we share some epipheny which only me and you can understand."
 "I am glad you said that Shehryar , I felt maybe it was only my imagination,"Mona said. "This sexual chemistry between us is almost palpable my cherie, how could I not have felt it. From the moment I saw you the first time I felt I had known you and I had to know you Mona". In my case Shehryar it is even more absurd, "I felt desire for you when I saw your painting at an art gallery."" Mona I need to see you, will you come to me." he asked with deep longing.
She looked at him desire coursing through her body like hot liquid lava, she so wanted to say yes but family, convention, morality, society all stood in front of her like sentries on guard. She looked at him with tears in her eyes. "I want to Shehryar but you know as well as I that it cannot be, this must be our one and final meeting." She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, she felt his stubble rub against her soft skin. He took her hand in his and caressed it with his thumb as he leaned in to kiss her neck he smelled jasmine, rose and lillies on her skin all the scents mingled into a lusty animalistic concoction in his mind. I wont ever be able to get this smell off of me he said to her as she rose to leave.