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Ricky Laplace has problems. He is an introvert who has it very difficult to talk to women. Suddenly, he finds the most beautiful girl in the world at the park, under a tree, and she talks to him! They talk for hours, and then she goes away. He doubts he ever met her. He thinks he is crazy, so he visits the psychologist..., and then he understands his real problems have just started.

This is my fourth short story written directly in English, the first one being The singer's complaint, the second Lust and the third one Sloth, both in a larger project called  The Seven Deadly Sins. I hope you like it..., when I finish it. I am now in the process to write it, and I hope I will finish it after a few months. If you would like to be told about its publication, just let me know a word on it.

But here you have the first pages:

One

"Hello".

"Hi. Are you the Fairy of Air?"

"If you want".

"Who are you?"

"You tell me".

"What are you?"

"What you decide. However, we did not meet by chance".

I was walking in the morning ,very early, as usual.. Then I met that person, I couldn't tell really if it was a man or a woman: if It was a man, his traits were frankly feminine. If it was a woman, there was something masculine about her.

We had started to talk about the tree she (let's decide it was a girl) was leaning on. She appeared to be resting, though when I came closer I saw she was not tired at all. Her smile had captured me, and I had greeted her as a matter of fact. "Do we know each other?" she asked. But I was sure we had never met. And so was she. However, there was something in her which was not alien to me.

We talked for hours, and when I watched the time, I realized it was already noon. We had talked for four hours!

And, lifting my look from my watch to her, I found only the tree she had been leaning on. Where on earth had she gone? How could she move so fast without a sound?

I thought I had gone mad, that the girl had never been there and I should seek urgent help from a psychologist. In fact I looked up the phone book and found a good one. I concluded she must be very good because because the add covered a quarter of the page, and it was at the center of it, not in a corner, as if set there so that nobody could miss it. And then, in large letters I read her name: Samantha Burns, Psychologist and Soul Healer.

The night before I had a strange dream: I saw her leaning against that tree again. I remembered she had not big breasts, in fact I could not see any, but there are girls like that. She was wearing a strange tunic pearl-like white in color, but I could not see her arms because she had hers at her back, as she was leaning on them. She said only one sentence:

"We'll meet again soon".

The next day I telephoned my boss and told him I could not go to work, as I had to go to the doctor's. Yes, I'd tell him the next day.

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