(Page 1 of 2) Man ... Woman by Dan Bieger
 (3 ratings)
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SUMMARY: Entry #1 in October Flash Fiction Contest.He approached her, interrupting her journey from one place to another, in the open, on the plaza in the station's heart. "It doesn't work, you know." The man smiled as he talked but the smile had little humor to it, a fact the woman accepted.
"It works for me," she said.
"It just emphasizes that you are a woman. For a man, that's all it takes."
The woman adjusted the shimmering veil to permit better vision without revealing more of her eyes than necessary. The shimmer cloth provided the world an indistinct color, an indistinct form from head to toe, a fact she took comfort in.
"Ah, as a man you refuse to think, is that it? You just react, your hormones dictating what your mind concludes." Her voice might have carried sarcasm though, to the man, it sounded more like a simple recitation of fact. "Isn't that what the ancient one, Fatima's husband, was getting at?"
The man's face went blank. "Who the hell is Fatima?"
"Never mind. It was three centuries ago on the Old Place. It would mean little to you."
"Then why change the subject with that nonsense? The point I am making is that covering your body with shimmercloth only accentuates your femininity making it impossible for me to not know that you are a woman."
"If I dressed unisex as is now the custom, you would not know that I am a woman?"
"Of course, I'd know it. This shimmercloth just heightens the mystery."
"Mystery? What mystery could that be?"
"How you look, madam; how you appear to my senses."
"So, your imagination requires assistance." The woman's voice now came across as if she were seriously considering this information, a bit amazed at the possibility of its truthfulness. "It is not sufficient you know the female of the species has this feature and that, you must observe the features to incite your imagination." Having announced the assertion, her voice returned to puzzlement. "But, then, I thought you just made claim that denying you the inspiration only emphasized the interest."
"You twist my words," the man immediately complained. "You are a woman; I am a man. Those facts are incontestable. I merely point out the logical conclusion to the facts."
Now, broad humor informed her words: "The logical conclusion is that you will desire to bed me."
The man's smile became a smirk. "Perhaps, if I find you attractive."
A pause as the woman appeared to consider this assertion. When she resumed, her voice carried an assurance that bespoke of the certain victory to come from this mild debate: "For you to find me attractive, you must see what I look like?"
"Ultimately, yes."
"And if you cannot see what I look like?"
"Then I must guess."
"And your guessing is improved by the lack of information my dress provides."
"We're back to that again." The man's face crinkled with the annoyance his words reflected.
"Which is where you started, if I remember correctly."
"Well, then, what's the point? The dress doesn't protect you from my interest either way, does it?" Irritation segued to triumph, the man believing he had produced an important point.
"No, it does not," the woman agreed.
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