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I met her at an art exhibition. She stood there surrounded by canvases all around her. She had short hair and fair skin. She was tall and wore long baggy clothes, wore an orange-red that day. She only drew paintings of oceans and seas, so the canvas always has this blue tone to it. I was never there to enjoy art, I had very little artistry in me. The participants of this exhibition were people with disabilities. So I was standing at this corner, passively observing her, and guessing her disability. What could it be? Is she blind? Or deaf? Probably not blind. She draws very well.
I never had any plans to talk to her. I knew in my mind that I would fuck up. I was never good in conversations, I am more of a paper - pen guy. So I was enjoying her from far but she was not doing anything much. People came near her, watched her paintings and left. I never saw anyone purchasing any of her paintings. Some people just gave a pat on her shoulder and left. I very much wanted to purchase one of her paintings but some instincts told me that it could cost a lot and I didn't want to embarrass myself. Whatever, she had this smile on her face which was both beautiful and seemed fake at the same time.
Exhibition wind upped in the afternoon. Many artists formed groups here and there talking about art stuff, how the exhibition was and all. I searched for her in that groups. But couldn't find it. Thought she left already. I was going towards my scooter and saw her loading her paintings inside a taxi. It seemed that she could use a pair of hands for help. Gained courage and offered her help, didn't ask loud, just mouthed the words. She smiled that fake smile and waved her hands. Went near her and help her put the paintings inside the taxi. To be honest, I am pretty sure that none of her works got sold out. But she seemed okay. But after loading her paintings inside the taxi, there was no space for her to sit. Then I pointed my hands towards my scooter. She nodded. We followed the taxi to her home. And we didn't speak anything literally. We just looked, waved and nodded at each other. I still have no idea why she agreed to travel with me. Maybe she too was noticing me from the exhibition. Whatever she was no normal typical person. She was quirky.
She sat behind me without even letting her dress touch me. But that felt okay because I would have panicked if she held my shoulders or something. At frequent intervals, I checked her through the rearview mirror. She had this tiny tattoo on her face, a tattoo of a sleeping cat. I could see that so properly because she had no hair in her face that covered it. Her ears were not pierced and she wore this tiny makeup too. After just 30 minutes of drive, we reached her home. It was at the long end of a street. The house was quite small and that was the only house in that area with no wall or fence around it. I don't know all of these little things about her seemed so euphoric.
The taxi stopped. We unloaded all the paintings in her yard. She paid the driver and he left. I stood there without knowing what to do. Should I leave? Will that be rude? Will she thank me? She looked at me and moved her hands in such a way that she was welcoming me into her house. At first, I was like, okay I only saw this inviting some stranger into the house in movies. But that will be rude if I didn't go in. Anyway, this was a strange day so I'll just go in and see where it takes. To be honest while walking through that pavement, carrying her paintings inside the house, I stared at her ass and thought many random shits. Like, Is she going to have sex with me? or is it just a coffee invite or is she some kind of sociopath who is going to murder me? I put a pin in my thoughts for a minute and followed her.
We reached inside. It was kind of a messy house. But beautiful. I could see Van Gogh’s Starry nights hanging half torn in the hall and many canvases laying on the floor. But none of these canvases was empty. Each was painted with something blue. The house was so small. It had an only room as a whole. Everything from the kitchen to the bathroom was in it. Some of her used clothes were laying over the bed. She placed the canvases on the table. Then she said something with her hands. Then she pointed to the couch. Then she said again something with hands, but this time with more actions. Yes, at that moment I understood that she was mute. She couldn't speak. I mean I knew there was something disabled for her but anyway I was surprised. I didn't speak back to her. I also did some hand actions and sat on the couch.
She went to the kitchen part of the house, picked up the kettle, and started to make coffee. She put on some music and started to move her body according to the beats. She was kind of joyful. Then this awkward thing happened. She farted. Yes, she just literally had this loud fart. I was like stunned and gazed at her for a moment. She was so cool about it. She didn't even mind it. I changed my look away from her because I don't want to be weird. She was enjoying the music and making coffee. But then again she farted. I was more stunned and was feeling a little bit of discomfort too. But, I don't know, seeing her being so cool about it made me feel okay.
She poured two cups. Turned off the music and sat near me on the couch. Passed me a cup. I took a sip and looked at her. She smiled and pulled out her drawer from the table nearby. She took a cigarette from a pack and offered me one. I said no. I never tried a cigarette, never wanted to. So she was near me smoking and drinking coffee. Then all of a sudden she farted again but this time she slightly moved her butt up to left the gas out. Seriously this time I was getting a little bit nauseated feeling. But controlled me. Why was she doing that? Is she not aware that a second person, a stranger, was sitting near her? Anyhow, I drank the coffee and tried to leave. Even though my mind wanted to go from there, something was holding me there. Was it her fart? That situation was so bizarre.
I waited until she finishes her coffee and I set my mind to say goodbye. But all of a sudden, I don’t know from where I farted to. I closed my eyes instantly before she looks at me. Then I opened my eyes slowly and I saw her right before me, right in front of my face. She kissed me on my lips. What the fuck just happened? I just farted and she just kissed me. And I was blushing too. Then she sat on my lap and farted again. I kissed her. Everything was gone out of control. A numerous amount of farts followed by kisses happened. This was one of beautiful and vulgar thing that ever happened to me. After many kisses and farts, we both became completely naked. And fucked so hard on that couch.
The next thing I remember is laying on her barely naked body smoking a cigarette. She moved her hands towards my chest and said something with her hand actions. I didn’t get what she meant by that but I smiled. She smiled too. She took the cigarette from my mouth and took a long smoke and the room was completely covered with smoke.
Was this my first love or fart love? Why she enjoyed farts and why we kissed after farts? Wasn’t farts meant for removing gases from our body? I think she was saying something through farts. She was speaking through farts. And at some moment I loved her farts too. She was not nasty or dirty. What she did was not vulgar or awkward. Am I in love with her? Was she searching for someone like me? Or am I?
I got dressed and walked towards to door to walk out. She held my hands and gave me a pamphlet. It was about her next exhibition and she wanted me to come. I nodded my head. She closed the door. While driving my scooter many things came into my mind. But you know, when you fall in love with someone you will find everything about them so beautiful even if it is a fart.