Author Archives: F DOT LEONORA

Severine had travelled so many parts of the world, places that many people might never see in their lifetime. But as a flight attendant they were places that she would not just see once, but maybe even revisit many times over. Though at the end of the day, her world was Paris and New York. New York not so much because she had lived there, but the fact that Rafe was there.
Every time she was in New York she saw Rafe.
But it was Paris where she lived and where she was now, that she wished was not just hers but theirs.
The first thing that she loved about Paris over New York was that even when she was in a crowded part of the city, there was an isolated corner that you could end up on and have piece of mind…if that was what you wanted. While Rafe was not in Paris with her, he followed her down every street that she walked.
“Tell me what you see,” he questioned her now on the phone.
Rafe had been in Paris with her before, so when she told him stories about it she knew he could kind of imagine what she was telling him.
“Where are you Severine?”
Severine looked around sobered by Rafe’s voice. First she was just texting him, and now she was was talking to him on the phone. Recently he had been more accessible to her than ever, but at the same time he felt further away because she would always need more of him than he would or could give her. In ways she understood that, but it other ways she wanted more. Like for him to come to Paris for example. Ever since she was last in New York, she dreamt about him with Calaveras makeup because it was damn sexy to her to have been making love to him while he was so scary.
Maybe he was that scary to her even when he was not in makeup, and maybe that was what she liked about him.
But she could not over think it when she was with him, even if with him was only an international
phone call on a dark street.
“I am just outside of my apartment, it is a quiet, dark street.”
“What are you wearing?”
Severine smiled.
“Do you want me to be naked? Leaning from a balcony? I could tell you an erotic story if you want me too…”
“Don’t patronize me Severine, I want to know what you are wearing because I am going to tell you what to do.”
“A house dress, a simple one. Probably vintage. And perfume, the one that you told me that you like so much. I put a lot on even before I knew I was going to be talking to you. I put it behind my ears, around all of my curves.”
“Did you perfume every crevice of you?”
“Every secret crevice, so that only someone like you would be able to come close and catch all of my scent.”
Severine remembered earlier today, walking into the tiniest bookstore with wall to floor books. She could not see anything but piles of books, and then she saw the man who owned the store. She thought to herself it would be so easy to have Rafe slip into that store, and make love in erotica section.
“Is there anybody with you?” he asked her.
“Just you.”
She heard his soft laughter evaporate almost as soon as she heard it.
“Then I want you to act as you would if it was just me with you. What you do if it was just us?”
Severine took a deep breath.
“Where are your hands Sev?”
“On the phone obviously,” she said continuing her flirtation.
She wanted to make him say exactly what she wanted him to say, she wanted him to say exactly what he wanted her to do and she wanted him to use the filthiest language he could to instruct her.
“I told you not to play me, pull up your house dress and touch yourself with your other hand like I would touch you if I was there.”
“It is drizzling here.”
“Haven’t we fucked in the rain?”
“No,” Severine said clutching her crotch through her dress like she was a young boy wearing his jeans low over his his hips.
There was a pause and she was not sure if he was embarrassed that they had never fucked in the rain and he was confusing her with someone else, or if he was thinking that they should have because they had been in the rain together?
Then his words came as slowly, but pointedly as it they were drizzling about her.
“Then we will sext in the rain. Now pull up your dress and use your phone and video it for me.”
Severine looked around, the dampness around her was like a mist with the sound of Rafe’s voice was steadier. Her house dress moved up almost of its own volition, as she turned her phone on herself. On that dark Parisian street, she was on display like bread in a Parisian boulangerie. Her bright smile was shadowed in the dark, as she gave Rafe the show he asked her to produce.

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paris at night by f dot leonora

Severine felt happy as soon as she was in Paris. She actually loved that people did not think Montparnasse was hip anymore. All the tourist guides that she ended up inevitably reading, said Montparnasse was dead and that it only had a hideous tower.
Montparnasse was her home, she loved it. She walked with her carry-on down the slick streets, basking in the happiness of being home. She turned back toward Port Royal station.
Looking back, she should have known that there was something with Rafe. R, as she called him affectionately with a lovely and very French roll of her ‘r’.’ Eleanora wanted to know his actual name, but what woman did not love having their very own Mr. Big?
Rafe was big from the time she met him. And everything that happened ever since was even bigger. When he called her the last time from New York, and said that he loved her, she felt finally. Because if he did not love her, then what exactly had she been doing all this time with him?
He said he wanted to see her soon, and she was flying into New York for the Day of the Dead. So she joined him for a Day of the Dead party. When he saw her, her face was in complete Calaveras makeup, with extra black shadow to make her look thin as the bones painted on her. He touched her waist, pulled her close to him. They canoodled, and she filled with warmth.
He buried his face in her hair, and whispered.
“You’re so beautiful, so very beautiful.”
She looked up at him.
“Even with a death mask?”
He grinned, looking down at her looking the Grim Reaper himself, and wolfish. Rafe meant wolf after all, and he was her wolf. She had read a novel once translated into French called Le Loup et la Colombe by a popular American romance author. It was a very passionate and sexual romance…she wanted Rafe to be her loup, and to be his colombe forever.
They circled each other the entire night, she never said a word to him about him saying that he loved her. She knew he would not, but after she went on and on about his declaration with Eleanora, she wanted the romantic element to be romantic, to be drummed up.
And it was, even at a party that celebrated death. Because after all human beings created death. If they created life, they also created death inadvertently.
They ended up later, much later making love in the house where the party was being held, where there were ofrendas all over the house and things inviting dead in such a loving matter, making love. Making love in a room where in the mirror, she could see Rafe taking her in his arms. Kissing her and entering her in Calaveras makeup, so it looked like death was taking her like on the cover of an old pulp fiction novel.
She had a flight the next day, and she was happy to have some time to look at Rafe without a mask of death in the morning. Even though their rendezvous was dying slowly.
Asleep, and still, he was more than beautiful. His breath was even, as he slept untroubled sleep. She cherished this because it was rare that she spent time alone with him, his scent warm. When he woke up, his wolfish grin threatened to eat her alive and she wanted to be devoured.
It was not perfect, it was never going to be perfect between them, she thought hours later when he was kissing her like the way that soldier kissed that nurse in iconic style in Times Square after the war. That was the thing. She was inaccessible to him, in a different way than he was inaccessible to her. But there was something there and looking back on it, she would rather have a part of him than nothing at all.
And with that thought, she sat down at her favorite cafe, with her carry-on and her favorite waiter bought her a grande cafe because he knew that was what she wanted. She smiled at him, and he pushed a chocolate into her hand like he always did. He was so kind to her after her long journeys, and she appreciated that as she sipped her coffee and lit a cigarette.
Paris was the most beautiful place to reflect and dream.

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parisian cafe by f dot leonora

Polly looked incongruous in a top hat and a qipao, but still elegant belting out Frank Sinatra’s “My Way” at karaoke.
Oscar could not keep his eyes off of her. They had been to several parties in Shanghai because they were there for an art fair which meant a lot of work, but just as much partying. He was surprised to see her like this, he had been in Shanghai with her before but she was not so light of heart like she was now.
He had dared her to go up there since she was sitting with him, saying she liked Sinatra so much.
“Here,” he said taking off his hat and handing it to her. “Go on up there.”
Polly shrugged her slender shoulders.
“Come on ba-Polly,” He lost himself for a moment, wanted to call her terms of endearment that he had not earned yet. “Don’t be chicken.”
Polly stared at him, with a revisit of the former dark fire she used to greet him with in her eyes.
“I am not a chicken. I once took the subway in New York dressed as a Little Bo-Keep, and it was not Halloween.”
“Why?”
She smiled at him.
“Give me your hat,” she purred, and he did relishing the soft expression on her face again.
Now he sat watching her and no one could keep their eyes off of her, because she was so lovely and ultra-feminine even with his hat.
“And did it my way!” she sang with her arms extended, and pulling the top hat over her eye.
She sashayed over to the table, and put his hat back on top of his head. Oscar was silent, his hands reached up to adjust it on his head. Before he knew it, he pulled her onto his lap and hugged her.
She had dangled her flowery fruit scent over him long enough. He enjoyed the softness of her body, which was not resisting him holding her so close.
It was like when she fell asleep on him in the car to the airport. There was a degree of closeness that they now experienced simply from that.
But tonight, pulling her onto his lap was not as innocent as it been other nights. He was semi-hard, and growing harder by the minute. Anxious what Polly would think, he tried to shift her on his lap, but she settled on him.
“You never told me, you never told me…” she whispered, caressing his face.
Oscar looked in her eyes and when she turned her her head, he kissed her neck. She pushed her glossy hair to the side to let him kiss on her neck all the more.
She pressed more into the nook of him beneath her bottom, which he began to caress and she shifted on his lap. He knew if he touched her she would be wet, but he was not going to do that.
Here.
“I always wanted you Polly, I always did but you did not like me until we came to Shanghai this time. Even the last time we were here, you never went anywhere with me.”
Placing her hands firm on his thighs, she leaned back. Without looking at him, she replied,
“I always wanted you, but I am always afraid of what I want.”
“I feel like I do not even know you. And you never told me why you were dressed as Little Bo Peep?
“Like in the O. Henry story “But that is one of the tales they brought behind them.” But I do have a picture.
She slid alongside him, his body moved with hers.
She scrolled on her cell phone, and showed him the picture of her lovely legs all in white.
He looked at her, and thought he never knew a purer innocence than Polly and this moment with her.

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photo by f dot leonora

Eleanora was not sure why it weighed so heavily on her mind now. It was not usually her style to be so concerned with the lives of others, even her friends. Well to be honest, she did not have a lot of friends, but she included Severine among them since she had moved to Paris with her ex. That fairy tale was over before it began, but she was lucky. She was always lucky.
But right now she was thinking about Severine who she had had brunch with before her friend Sherilyn had moved to Paris. Severine was so much happier than she had ever been holding her smartphone.
Her happiness was on the large screen of the phone. The words that she had wanted to hear, like the Beatles’ song lyrics, “Say the words you want to hear, I’m in love with you.”
The man that she had been on and off with for years, had finally texted her that he loved her. Severine was filled with joy as she turned the face of her smartphone to Eleanora and showed her. She flashed the phone almost like it was a diamond.
“R texted this to me the other day. He was drinking, but that is when people really tell the truth in my experience. When they are drunk and their defenses are down. But,”
She looked down at the grande café in front of her. They were sitting on the sidewalk in front of Severine’s favorite cafe in Paris, which honestly was not as nice as some that Eleanora had been to. It had its charms though, and she had spent a lot of time with her there dreaming away the afternoon.
She had heard a lot of stories about R–R for Rhett, for Roger? Robert? Rufus? Severine kept mum about it, because even though he was not married he was involved with another woman.
“I know it is wrong, but I did not know and we had been together in the way we were for a long time. I thought that we could have been something, but I know it is hard to have a relationship with me. I am always going away on a flight. But I loved him, I fell in love with him. Honestly, I fell in love with him more after he told me that he was with someone else. There were no more secrets.”
“Well, because he was being honest with you finally.”
Severine looked away from her coffee and onto the sidewalk where there was an elegant older woman pulling a suitcase into an apartment. There was an equally elegant and debonair older man who was following her to the door, before he kissed her. He twirled her, and kissed her like their lives depended on it. She abandoned the suitcase to completely embrace him, her arms cradling his head. They pressed their faces together when their lips parted, their eyes fixed on each other. Eleanora could see the longing in Severine’s face, or more the longing for the fairy tale to come true.The her and R happily ever after…
“I have a flight tomorrow heading to New York, and I told him and he says that he wants me. That…well you can imagine the things he said to me…” She took a slow sip of her coffee.
Eleanora could absolutely imagine every word he had said to Severine. Fairy tales were rarely told with new words. The same words with some variations in their twists, but ultimately ending the same way with the happily ever after. The happily ever after in her experience, had lost her her job as a flight attendant alongside Severine.
But she had been so in love with Carter, and that was her first mistake because she had always avoided love because it usually did not amount to much. She knew he was a bit of a player, and she knew he was married so she figured that she would not get that connected because she knew she could not.
But she did, the first time he kissed her she was in love. All the stereotypical love things happened to her, and surrounded her like ghosts that she was able to coexist with. His love was like a ghost, that she called Carter.
She saw the ghosts gather around Severine, standing amidst all the Venetian masks in her apartment where she had been so generous with them for Halloween.
Eleanora looked down at a text that she was sent from Severine who was now in New York. Her face was painted with Calaveras makeup for Day of the Dead celebrations. She texted she was with R, who was also painted with Calaveras but was not quite as pretty as Severine. Severine, who even with bones on her face albeit with roses, she looked more beautiful and elegant than most women who painted their faces regularly.
That beauty and elegance was love, which was the most important makeup for any woman. In the photo she texted, their mutual skeletal smiles were lovely, and maybe indicative of the fairy tale coming true at last.
Love and all of its fixings eluded her now as she looked down at her grande cafe. When Eleanora looked up, she saw that same elegant, older woman pulling her suitcase out of the apartment building. Again abandoning it, and kissing her man like he was the only thing in the world, and in their world he was her only thing. They kissed for the longest time, and then pressed their faces together after. She got into a Parisian taxi, and she looked at him for the longest time her face pressed to the window before she headed off with the driver to her destination. Eleanora picked up her cup, and inhaled the lovely coffee aroma.
She got a text then from Severine, that started:
About fairy tales they…
She picked up her phone, and saw the quick spiral that meant her phone had died.
As hardened as Eleanora was, she hoped that R had made Severine’s fairy tale come true. Even though she sensed in her heart that he was a dark knight…

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calaveras via google images