A man strolls through what will turn out to be an art gallery. A woman approaches him with a big smile, seemingly emotional.
Her – Do you recognise me?
He seems caught off guard but, not wanting to disappoint her, tries something.
Him – Bridget?
Her – Victoria!
Him – Victoria!
Her – I’ve been looking at you for a while. Your face vaguely reminded me of something. And then it hit me all at once. Something in the expression…
Him – That’s crazy… How long has it been?
Her – Oh, well… You didn’t recognise me earlier, did you?
Him – Yes, yes, well… It’s true that a moment ago… But now that you mention it… Everything is there… The chin… The eyes… The mouth… Even the nose…
Her – Yes…
Him – No, I said Bridget because… She’s a friend of my mother. (Realising his mistake and trying to recover) You haven’t changed much, right?
Her – Over the years…
Him – No, I mean… You’re still recognisable.. When you know it’s you… (Realising the depth of the hole he’s already dug) So, you still live around here?
Her – Yes… Still in the same place… And you? You don’t come back often, do you?
Him – No, not very… My mother still lives here, but… It’s a bit complicated… (Preferring to change the subject) Victoria…! You’re married, I imagine?
Her – I have four children…
Him – Oh, wow, really…
Her – And you?
Him – Me too… Well, I only have one, but… (New embarrassment) It’s incredible that we meet like this here. In this art gallery. I was about to buy cigarettes. I came in like that, by chance…
Her – Yes…
Him – You won’t believe it, but I was thinking of you earlier. Passing by your place, precisely… But I didn’t think you could still live there. So, you haven’t moved…?
Her – Well, no, you see. I’m still here…
Him – It’s incredible…
They seem to not know what to say anymore.
Her – Have you had time to see the exhibition…?
Him – Yes… Well, not everything… There are some really nice things, huh?
To save face, for a moment, he contemplates the painting in front of him with her, trying to find something else to say.
Him – This one, on the other hand, is terrible, isn’t it…? Looks like a child’s drawing… I don’t know how they can exhibit such things…
Her – I still need to work on my technique, I know…
Him (flustered) – Ah, because it’s…? It’s you who…?
Her – Yes…
Him – No, but I love the others, I told you…
Her – Well, they’re not all mine. It’s a group exhibition. But this one, yes, it’s me…
Him – Of course! It’s coming back to me now… You were already painting back then… On shoes boxes, right…?
Her – Chocolate boxes…
Him – Chocolate boxes… That’s it. So now, you… You’ve changed the medium…
He takes a fresh look at the painting.
Him – Oh, yes, it’s good… It’s… It’s a horse?
Her – A cat…
Him – Of course! No, you can see the… The ears, the mouth, the nose… The moustache… And it’s abstract painting, right?
Her – No.
Him – Well, I mean… Naive painting…
Her – Not really…
Him – Well, you know, me and painting… And then this habit we have of always wanting to put labels on things… Especially when it comes to painting! Me first, huh? It’s beautiful, and that’s it… (Adding a bit of emotion) And it’s so you…
Another awkward silence.
Him – You know, I was very much in love with you…?
Her – That was a long time ago…
Him – I would never have dared to tell you back then… It’s funny… It feels good to be able to say it now… I mean now that…
Her – We’re no longer on the market…
Him – Yes… (Embarrassed) Listen, I really have to go now… I’m going to see my mother, actually… You know, at her age… She could die at any moment…
Her – How old is she?
Him – Sixty-two… Well, but… She’s always had fragile health, you know… It was really nice to see you again… (Looking for an exit) I’m on Facebook… Send me a friend request… We’ll stay in touch…
Her – OK…
Him – I searched for you once or twice, you know… On Facebook… But with Victoria, um… (In vain, trying to remember her last name) There are so many…
Her – In the photo, I have a red nose… I mean a clown’s nose…
Him – So it’s no wonder I didn’t recognise you… Well, I really have to run now, otherwise… Shall we kiss goodbye?
They kiss each other, a bit awkwardly. He is about to leave but, still searching for the definitive phrase that would fix everything, he turns around one last time and improvises.
Him – Well… (Profoundly) In the kingdom of heaven, first loves will be the last…
She politely agrees, pretending to understand the profound meaning of this cryptic sentence. He leaves with a mysterious smile, leaving her somewhat perplexed.
Black.

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A sketch from the collection Lost Times Chronicles
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L’article First Love est apparu en premier sur La Sketchothèque.