A Mushroom of Glass
by David R Cole

I was drawn to her effortless smile. One could say that her smile is like the moon, and that when you are close to her, she has the sensuous feel of a cat. She could give you a look that suddenly chills to the bone; it was an intelligent and a sensitive look, a look that pre-empted action. I put my hand around her waist, whilst gazing into her deep green eyes, I was praising her every movement, and I was transforming myself in the Colombian night. We danced to the South American rhythms of salsa, vallanato, cumba, reggae and mamba. We whirled together in the dancing, and I felt her cool breath against the side of my face, as our bodies brushed together closely.

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