Hello Everyone, Here’s a quick chapter from the first few pages of my novel "Wednesday Night Meeting," for which I’ve received a lot of comments from my readers. Many have said that this section made them think about kissing in a way they never had before. Maybe you’ll get a kick out of it too. I plan to do this novel excerpt thing more often for the sections that can stand alone. Hope you enjoy it. -LLL IV



[[    ⫛    ]]

    “When you’re kissing someone, you close your eyes, right?”

    “Of course. What are you talking about?”

    “I was just thinking about what that means. You have two people, who are in love, spending time locking lips. So why does it seem creepy if they both keep their eyes open the whole time, an inch apart from each other, eye ball to big blurry eyeball? Shouldn’t they want to?”

    “No, they shouldn’t! You’re too funny. Why are you thinking about this? Just close your eyes and enjoy kissing her!”

    “Well, that’s just it. That’s what I do. I close my eyes and pucker up and hold her close. But that’s not all. I’ve also been thinking about what I’m thinking about while I’m kissing her. Melanie, what do you think about when you’re kissing someone?”

    “I think you’re thinking too much.”

    “Actually, I think I’ve thought too little, which is what kills me. When I’m looking at someone, I believe that most of my thoughts will be related to them. Although, there have been many times that I’ve looked right into a woman’s eyes, with her batting her lashes while I tell a story—but my mind was latitudes away. But generally, when you look at someone, you’re thinking of them. So that’s why we should keep our eyes open when we’re leading off first base. It should be reassuring.”

    “I’m not even blindly following you, Zeus.”

    “So, since I’m not looking at her, what should I think about? A different image? Like her profile picture or a wallet-sized portrait to hang in my head? Or do I think about what she looks like at that moment? In which case I might as well just open my eyes. And this sounds pretty damn silly when I say it out loud, but what if the image in my head is of her alone somewhere—in a room maybe?”

    “Why is she standing in another room?”

    “I don’t know. So you tell me, am I supposed to picture her independent of myself or not?”

    “I have no clue.” 

    “Is it possible that both kissers have their eyes closed and are both imagining what the other person looks like? And if so, are they idealized pictures of what they represent, or true to form?”

    “I wouldn’t bring this up to the next girl you hook up with.”

    “You know what else I’ve thought about? And this may sound like creep city, but here’s something to consider.”

    “I can’t wait.”

    “Suppose I create a second version of myself, like a ghostly figure that hovers over my shoulder. This way, my inner-vision of the lip-locking includes me—I’m there after all—but I’m focused on her, bending it more toward reality, I think.”

    “You should really stop thinking. So, you’re saying that when two people—let’s say they’re in a closet playing the old Seven Minutes in Heaven game—are kissing, they both have separate versions of themselves watching the kissing in an attempt for realism?”

    “I think that’s pretty much it! When two people hook up and close their eyes, it becomes a foursome—unless both ghost watchers also end up kissing each other. In which case... forget it. I feel some kind of infinite loop of voyeurism approaching. Anyway, tell me what you really think about when you’re kissing someone.”

    “I just think of darkness.”

    “Darkness? Hmmm... Do you mean the kind that clouds your vision because your feelings associated with touch and changing body temperature are that intense? The kind of darkness that allows you to shut off one of the physical senses so the emotional senses are enhanced? I think I see what you mean. That ultimately, when we look into each other’s eyes, we look not at the color of the irises, but to the pupils. When we’re attracted to someone, our pupils dilate because we subconsciously want to see more of them. So, we don’t close our eyes to avoid looking directly into each other’s pupils, but rather to enhance that very idea. I think you’re on to something. Because we want to experience the other person so deeply, we close our eyes and fuse them into one that lacks actual sight, and it becomes the shared inner-vision of darkness that only allows for feeling and love.”

    “Wait, is that four eyes becoming one, or eight? Are the ghosts over the shoulder still hanging around for all of this?”

    “Four. It’s four becoming one abstraction of sublimity. It’s beautiful!”

    “I think it’s just darkness.”