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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Love stories / Romance
- Subject: Love / Romance / Dating
- Published: 02/14/2018
Matthew was unbelievably excited on this very special morning. He actually ate breakfast almost blindly rushing back and forth from the buffet to the table and vice versa, without really knowing what he was eating. Today, he would finally realize his great wish, and visit the spectacular exhibition of ‘The coats of the Shamans’. These coats had fascinated him since he was a boy. He had read numerous books and articles about them, and even owned two such coats – they were framed and hung behind glass in his living room. He was working as a scientist in an institute fed by private funds and working exclusively in the field of ethnic habits throughout the world, but tendentiously focused on the most interesting activity of the shamans, which was full of unbelievable aspects and many secrets that would never be revealed.
He was not a very outgoing person, rather introverted, but had a wonderful inside, that was only known to the ones who would take time and ask questions to challenge him so that he opened up and talked. There was only a very small group of people who were close to him, apart from his family. He lived alone, but would have liked to find a partner. He just was too busy with his own interests and research activities as well as endless hours full of reading, so the chance that a suitable female would come along, cross his path, was very, very small. And since he hardly ever went to a bar or a restaurant, did not follow any sports or other events, nor practice sports, and overall not having too much time left, there was no space for a person joining in. The only other interest was in flute playing. He had a small collection of flutes of natural material from various countries, and he was quite a reasonably good music interpreter on all of his flutes.
He brushed his teeth extensively, already thinking about what he was going to see in a short time, put on a long cotton shirt with a wild ethnic print in many colours, and slipped into his rather old leather sandals which should be replaced since quite some time, however, he did not find time yet to buy new ones. Then he rushed out of his room, crossed the hotel lobby neither looking to the right or left and stormed out of the door. He had selected a hotel in foot distance to the exhibition, and walked now happily smiling, full of deep anticipation, along the street. It was an extremely hot day, and he realized too late that he forgot to put his cotton scarf around his neck, so he then could frequently use it to wipe his sweat. Well, deep inside, he was persuaded, there would be a cooling system because of the precious pieces of art, and so things would be perfect.
When turning around the last bend in the road before the building where the exhibition took place, he stopped astonished and looked bewildered at the very long queue of people that reached from the entrance, after first forming two large loops finally far out to the sidewalk. It was absolutely amazing, how many people seemed to be interested in these shaman coats. He had heavily underestimated this popularity and therefore had not pre-booked. Now he had to stand in this very long line with the main lot of visitors, while some privileged ones could just advance, because they had an online pre-booking sheet in hand. The sun already burnt down quite strongly on the heads of the waiting visitors. Some lucky ones were protected by sunhats or sports caps, others created caps out of newspaper or used their pocket umbrella to have some shade. Matthew forgot to bring his cap and also did not have an umbrella, or a newspaper. And anyway what he wanted was to enter the building, get a ticket and see the shaman coats. Everything else was absolutely not of interest to him.
After standing in line for almost an hour, he felt sweat dripping from his forehead and neck, and he became thirsty. Of course, he also forgot to bring a bottle of water. But who had thought that half of the world would be visiting this exhibition. Slowly, very slowly the line moved on, and finally he stood inside with many others and could get his ticket. He felt soaked in sweat, so that he first went to the toilet room to quickly wash his neck and face, because he actually did not want to lose more time. But he then also managed to squeeze himself along a waiting line in the coffee shop to get a small bottle of water, and he then drank the whole bottle in one go.
So, now he was ready and did not want to be held back anymore, now he wanted to see these shaman coats and forget the rest of the world. He entered the first room, and immediately dived into the world of these fabulous creations that could tell so many outstanding stories from all the encounters throughout their time in action with a shaman. Matthew was in his element, bent over the glass showcases, and slipped into the gorgeous patterns of layers of story-laden tissues enriched with all sorts of embroidery and material, depending on the tribes and countries the coat originated from. It was such a great pleasure and blessing to be surrounded by this excellent selection of rarely seen shaman coats. Matthew was more than content. He was radiant with happiness. He spent almost an hour in the second large room, and examined the last detail of every single coat, read the comments in various languages, re-examined the pieces and took a lot of notes. This exhibition was fabulous, and had been prepared with great care, professional comments and profound data, overall it was the absolute best exhibition in this respect he had ever visited; and he had visited them all during the last twenty-five years, around the whole world.
Then he moved on to the last hall with the three most exclusive pieces, which were presented in very large showcases on top of wooden tables that stood with one small side touching the wall, where the comment was displayed. So the visitors could walk around the showcase on three sides. The light in the room was dimmed down to a minimum – probably to create some interesting atmosphere – and some hidden spotlights were illuminating the glass cases in a clever way, showing these skillfully created, precious pieces of art to the utmost advantage - and thus gaining full attention of the visitors and causing endless pleasure at the same time. There were two rows of visitors bending over the showcases at each table, to adore these masterpieces. No one talked, and there was total silence, people moved on tiptoe, in order not to disturb this almost solemn aura. It was just wonderful.
Mathew was about to change from the first table to the next, when he felt again sweat dripping into his eyes. He quickly – almost impatiently, because he did not want to be disturbed now - wiped with the back of his hand over his forehead, did not watch where he was walking, and stumbled over the edge of the carpet which for a short moment got stuck in his sandal. Trying to regain his balance, he gesticulated rather wildly, touched with the thumb of his right hand his glasses so that they flew away, and got lost somewhere on the floor. This caused some light noise, and several visitors indignantly turned their head and stared a moment at him with reprimand expression in the face. He shrugged, bowed, and then got down on his knees to search for his glasses. He urgently needed them, because he had strong sight corrections and without glasses he was rather lost. So he crawled along on the ground in front and then also under the second table, desperately looking for his glasses. It was a very difficult if not hopeless undertaking, because he could hardly see anything, on one hand, since it was so dark in the room, and on the other, because his bad eyesight did not help much at all. He groped under the table on every spot for his glasses with both hands, until he touched the back wall, and then turned around to search on the floor again. He tried to find the legs of the table so that he knew where he could try to move between the feet and legs of the visitors.
A light outcry of a female voice led everybody to look up and made him, under the table, realize, that he had touched the ankle of a woman instead of a table leg. Intuitively he wanted to get up, and hit his head hard against the tabletop, which made him crouch down again, full of pain and shame and feeling very uncomfortable. He paused a moment there under the table in the half dark and felt great pity with himself. Sadness came over him. He sat down, embracing his knees, pressing his lips together, and cursing the whole world.
The head of a young woman now appeared, with dark spiky hair, wildly framing her face, that reminded him immediately of a promotional poster for fashion clothes that was hanging everywhere in the city. The woman bent down and finally knelt beside him, whispering, “Hi, I’m Carol, can I help you? You must have lost something! What are we looking for?”
Matthew reached out to shake her hand, and gratefully whispered back, “My name is Matthew, and I lost my glasses, they must have flown away when I made an unusual movement, and to tell you the truth, without my glasses I’m pretty handicapped!” He tried to give her a shy smile. She nodded, patted his shoulder, and whispered, “I’ll help you to find them, don’t worry!” And she pulled out her mobile phone, switched on the tiny lamp and began meticulously, but efficiently to search for his glasses, moving along under the table in full concentration. He watched her and felt somehow protected and cared for in a way he had not felt before. No female had ever helped him in searching for any private object, and of course he had never been alone with a young woman, and by no mean sitting on the floor under a table.
“Hurray, here they are, they got stuck on the leg of the table!” Carol crawled back to him, and then gave him her mobile phone, “Please, hold this for a moment!” He sat there stiffly, holding her mobile phone, and in the shine of the integrated lamp he saw the young woman breathing on his glasses and then wiping them with a point of her T-Shirt. Then she moved towards him, put the glasses on his nose, carefully checking that the temples were fitted well behind his ears, and finally cheerfully stating, “Voilá, Matthew, here we go!” He saw her now very clearly, and could not do anything else but smile at her, and murmuring, “Thanks so much, you are just wonderful, a real angel!”
Somehow he was shocked about himself and about his own words, but this young woman enchanted him so much, that he seemed to find all of a sudden a total new style of vocabulary. And before he could fully become aware of what was going on, he heard himself saying, “Can I invite you for a drink or for dinner, if you have time?” She gave him a smile over all her face, reached out and gently patted again his shoulder, “Yes, great, accepted, I have all the time in the world, let’s get up!”
She was just about to move on, when a large light lit the scene and the head of the guard from the entrance door appeared under the table edge. He stared with piercing eyes in a rather serious face at the two, asking in amazement but also with smug superiority, “What is going on here, this is a museum and not a flirting corner!” Carol leaned forward, moved in a determined gesture his hand with the lamp aside, throwing a reproachful glance at him, and explained, “Look, you do not have to be rude, my partner lost his glasses, and I helped him to find them here on the floor, this is all! Maybe you are so kind as to help us up!”
The museum guard moved back a bit shocked or afraid, it was not clear, and hit his head on the table. But then he reached out with his hand and ordered people standing next to them to move aside so that the two could get up from beneath the table. Matthew and Carol finally rose from their uncomfortable place on the floor, and rearranged their clothes, also moving and shaking their legs and feet, to relax them after having been squeezed in a narrow spot. Many people standing around and also the ones from the other tables were staring at them in a punishing way, so that one could almost have thought that the Spanish inquisition was still active. Obviously, it was too much for all of these visitors, or they did not have the least portion of understanding for unusual situations and happenings. Carol could not hold back, and said amused, “Hi folks, never seen two love birds searching for lost glasses under a table, eh? Then you indeed missed something!” And this comment caused several visitors to turn their head in absolute indignation and quickly moving on. Finally, the two thanked the guard, and walked to the door, letting him know that they would come back to look at the last showcase after a pause and drink in the cafeteria.
Matthew and Carol found a nice corner place in the Cafeteria, and she ordered two glasses of champagne plus tiny sandwiches with roast beef. He did not say a word, and was just adoringly looking at her, with a divine smile on his face. She told him that she was a freelance journalist, working for several press agencies, in the field of art and sometimes also archaeology, and he still just kept smiling at her, completely enchanted. “And what is your field?” she wanted to know, happily biting into one of the delicious sandwiches. She had to repeat her question, and give him a light push, to let him get back to reality. “Um, yes I’m a researcher, working in the field of ethnic habits throughout the world at an institute financed by a large foundation. I’m a great fan of shaman coats, and I exclusively travelled to this place because of the exhibition. Furthermore, I play various flutes made of natural material!” He recited these lines in one flow, always looking at her happily smiling, and then he took a deep sip of champagne without taking his eyes from hers. Carol seemed to be fascinated as well as excited by what he just had said, moved forward and touched both his shoulders, “Fabulous, absolutely fabulous, I’m also a flute player, then we can play in duet!” And she kissed him on his cheek. Matthew sat there petrified. Her lips touching his cheek let his breath hang in the air. He opened his mouth, but could not say anything. He felt that he was swinging on a large velvet ribbon that moved along in huge waves, quicker and quicker, to wrap him up and carry him into another world. The champagne let tiny stars curve in his head. Carol’s head was still very close to his, her eyes shone. He moved a bit forward and then kissed her, very tenderly and without hurry, and then they embraced passionately, leaning back onto the wall, not caring about anyone else in the place.
After some, time they returned back from the romantic detour and sat upright again at the table, looking adoringly at each other, the way only fresh lovers can. And they were holding hands. Later, they went back to finish the exhibition tour and see the last shaman coat on the third table, but now they were a couple, holding each other, whispering into each other’s ear, and smiling allied.
Carol and Matthew married five months later and formed a wonderful team.
Under the shaman's coat(Dill McLain)
Matthew was unbelievably excited on this very special morning. He actually ate breakfast almost blindly rushing back and forth from the buffet to the table and vice versa, without really knowing what he was eating. Today, he would finally realize his great wish, and visit the spectacular exhibition of ‘The coats of the Shamans’. These coats had fascinated him since he was a boy. He had read numerous books and articles about them, and even owned two such coats – they were framed and hung behind glass in his living room. He was working as a scientist in an institute fed by private funds and working exclusively in the field of ethnic habits throughout the world, but tendentiously focused on the most interesting activity of the shamans, which was full of unbelievable aspects and many secrets that would never be revealed.
He was not a very outgoing person, rather introverted, but had a wonderful inside, that was only known to the ones who would take time and ask questions to challenge him so that he opened up and talked. There was only a very small group of people who were close to him, apart from his family. He lived alone, but would have liked to find a partner. He just was too busy with his own interests and research activities as well as endless hours full of reading, so the chance that a suitable female would come along, cross his path, was very, very small. And since he hardly ever went to a bar or a restaurant, did not follow any sports or other events, nor practice sports, and overall not having too much time left, there was no space for a person joining in. The only other interest was in flute playing. He had a small collection of flutes of natural material from various countries, and he was quite a reasonably good music interpreter on all of his flutes.
He brushed his teeth extensively, already thinking about what he was going to see in a short time, put on a long cotton shirt with a wild ethnic print in many colours, and slipped into his rather old leather sandals which should be replaced since quite some time, however, he did not find time yet to buy new ones. Then he rushed out of his room, crossed the hotel lobby neither looking to the right or left and stormed out of the door. He had selected a hotel in foot distance to the exhibition, and walked now happily smiling, full of deep anticipation, along the street. It was an extremely hot day, and he realized too late that he forgot to put his cotton scarf around his neck, so he then could frequently use it to wipe his sweat. Well, deep inside, he was persuaded, there would be a cooling system because of the precious pieces of art, and so things would be perfect.
When turning around the last bend in the road before the building where the exhibition took place, he stopped astonished and looked bewildered at the very long queue of people that reached from the entrance, after first forming two large loops finally far out to the sidewalk. It was absolutely amazing, how many people seemed to be interested in these shaman coats. He had heavily underestimated this popularity and therefore had not pre-booked. Now he had to stand in this very long line with the main lot of visitors, while some privileged ones could just advance, because they had an online pre-booking sheet in hand. The sun already burnt down quite strongly on the heads of the waiting visitors. Some lucky ones were protected by sunhats or sports caps, others created caps out of newspaper or used their pocket umbrella to have some shade. Matthew forgot to bring his cap and also did not have an umbrella, or a newspaper. And anyway what he wanted was to enter the building, get a ticket and see the shaman coats. Everything else was absolutely not of interest to him.
After standing in line for almost an hour, he felt sweat dripping from his forehead and neck, and he became thirsty. Of course, he also forgot to bring a bottle of water. But who had thought that half of the world would be visiting this exhibition. Slowly, very slowly the line moved on, and finally he stood inside with many others and could get his ticket. He felt soaked in sweat, so that he first went to the toilet room to quickly wash his neck and face, because he actually did not want to lose more time. But he then also managed to squeeze himself along a waiting line in the coffee shop to get a small bottle of water, and he then drank the whole bottle in one go.
So, now he was ready and did not want to be held back anymore, now he wanted to see these shaman coats and forget the rest of the world. He entered the first room, and immediately dived into the world of these fabulous creations that could tell so many outstanding stories from all the encounters throughout their time in action with a shaman. Matthew was in his element, bent over the glass showcases, and slipped into the gorgeous patterns of layers of story-laden tissues enriched with all sorts of embroidery and material, depending on the tribes and countries the coat originated from. It was such a great pleasure and blessing to be surrounded by this excellent selection of rarely seen shaman coats. Matthew was more than content. He was radiant with happiness. He spent almost an hour in the second large room, and examined the last detail of every single coat, read the comments in various languages, re-examined the pieces and took a lot of notes. This exhibition was fabulous, and had been prepared with great care, professional comments and profound data, overall it was the absolute best exhibition in this respect he had ever visited; and he had visited them all during the last twenty-five years, around the whole world.
Then he moved on to the last hall with the three most exclusive pieces, which were presented in very large showcases on top of wooden tables that stood with one small side touching the wall, where the comment was displayed. So the visitors could walk around the showcase on three sides. The light in the room was dimmed down to a minimum – probably to create some interesting atmosphere – and some hidden spotlights were illuminating the glass cases in a clever way, showing these skillfully created, precious pieces of art to the utmost advantage - and thus gaining full attention of the visitors and causing endless pleasure at the same time. There were two rows of visitors bending over the showcases at each table, to adore these masterpieces. No one talked, and there was total silence, people moved on tiptoe, in order not to disturb this almost solemn aura. It was just wonderful.
Mathew was about to change from the first table to the next, when he felt again sweat dripping into his eyes. He quickly – almost impatiently, because he did not want to be disturbed now - wiped with the back of his hand over his forehead, did not watch where he was walking, and stumbled over the edge of the carpet which for a short moment got stuck in his sandal. Trying to regain his balance, he gesticulated rather wildly, touched with the thumb of his right hand his glasses so that they flew away, and got lost somewhere on the floor. This caused some light noise, and several visitors indignantly turned their head and stared a moment at him with reprimand expression in the face. He shrugged, bowed, and then got down on his knees to search for his glasses. He urgently needed them, because he had strong sight corrections and without glasses he was rather lost. So he crawled along on the ground in front and then also under the second table, desperately looking for his glasses. It was a very difficult if not hopeless undertaking, because he could hardly see anything, on one hand, since it was so dark in the room, and on the other, because his bad eyesight did not help much at all. He groped under the table on every spot for his glasses with both hands, until he touched the back wall, and then turned around to search on the floor again. He tried to find the legs of the table so that he knew where he could try to move between the feet and legs of the visitors.
A light outcry of a female voice led everybody to look up and made him, under the table, realize, that he had touched the ankle of a woman instead of a table leg. Intuitively he wanted to get up, and hit his head hard against the tabletop, which made him crouch down again, full of pain and shame and feeling very uncomfortable. He paused a moment there under the table in the half dark and felt great pity with himself. Sadness came over him. He sat down, embracing his knees, pressing his lips together, and cursing the whole world.
The head of a young woman now appeared, with dark spiky hair, wildly framing her face, that reminded him immediately of a promotional poster for fashion clothes that was hanging everywhere in the city. The woman bent down and finally knelt beside him, whispering, “Hi, I’m Carol, can I help you? You must have lost something! What are we looking for?”
Matthew reached out to shake her hand, and gratefully whispered back, “My name is Matthew, and I lost my glasses, they must have flown away when I made an unusual movement, and to tell you the truth, without my glasses I’m pretty handicapped!” He tried to give her a shy smile. She nodded, patted his shoulder, and whispered, “I’ll help you to find them, don’t worry!” And she pulled out her mobile phone, switched on the tiny lamp and began meticulously, but efficiently to search for his glasses, moving along under the table in full concentration. He watched her and felt somehow protected and cared for in a way he had not felt before. No female had ever helped him in searching for any private object, and of course he had never been alone with a young woman, and by no mean sitting on the floor under a table.
“Hurray, here they are, they got stuck on the leg of the table!” Carol crawled back to him, and then gave him her mobile phone, “Please, hold this for a moment!” He sat there stiffly, holding her mobile phone, and in the shine of the integrated lamp he saw the young woman breathing on his glasses and then wiping them with a point of her T-Shirt. Then she moved towards him, put the glasses on his nose, carefully checking that the temples were fitted well behind his ears, and finally cheerfully stating, “Voilá, Matthew, here we go!” He saw her now very clearly, and could not do anything else but smile at her, and murmuring, “Thanks so much, you are just wonderful, a real angel!”
Somehow he was shocked about himself and about his own words, but this young woman enchanted him so much, that he seemed to find all of a sudden a total new style of vocabulary. And before he could fully become aware of what was going on, he heard himself saying, “Can I invite you for a drink or for dinner, if you have time?” She gave him a smile over all her face, reached out and gently patted again his shoulder, “Yes, great, accepted, I have all the time in the world, let’s get up!”
She was just about to move on, when a large light lit the scene and the head of the guard from the entrance door appeared under the table edge. He stared with piercing eyes in a rather serious face at the two, asking in amazement but also with smug superiority, “What is going on here, this is a museum and not a flirting corner!” Carol leaned forward, moved in a determined gesture his hand with the lamp aside, throwing a reproachful glance at him, and explained, “Look, you do not have to be rude, my partner lost his glasses, and I helped him to find them here on the floor, this is all! Maybe you are so kind as to help us up!”
The museum guard moved back a bit shocked or afraid, it was not clear, and hit his head on the table. But then he reached out with his hand and ordered people standing next to them to move aside so that the two could get up from beneath the table. Matthew and Carol finally rose from their uncomfortable place on the floor, and rearranged their clothes, also moving and shaking their legs and feet, to relax them after having been squeezed in a narrow spot. Many people standing around and also the ones from the other tables were staring at them in a punishing way, so that one could almost have thought that the Spanish inquisition was still active. Obviously, it was too much for all of these visitors, or they did not have the least portion of understanding for unusual situations and happenings. Carol could not hold back, and said amused, “Hi folks, never seen two love birds searching for lost glasses under a table, eh? Then you indeed missed something!” And this comment caused several visitors to turn their head in absolute indignation and quickly moving on. Finally, the two thanked the guard, and walked to the door, letting him know that they would come back to look at the last showcase after a pause and drink in the cafeteria.
Matthew and Carol found a nice corner place in the Cafeteria, and she ordered two glasses of champagne plus tiny sandwiches with roast beef. He did not say a word, and was just adoringly looking at her, with a divine smile on his face. She told him that she was a freelance journalist, working for several press agencies, in the field of art and sometimes also archaeology, and he still just kept smiling at her, completely enchanted. “And what is your field?” she wanted to know, happily biting into one of the delicious sandwiches. She had to repeat her question, and give him a light push, to let him get back to reality. “Um, yes I’m a researcher, working in the field of ethnic habits throughout the world at an institute financed by a large foundation. I’m a great fan of shaman coats, and I exclusively travelled to this place because of the exhibition. Furthermore, I play various flutes made of natural material!” He recited these lines in one flow, always looking at her happily smiling, and then he took a deep sip of champagne without taking his eyes from hers. Carol seemed to be fascinated as well as excited by what he just had said, moved forward and touched both his shoulders, “Fabulous, absolutely fabulous, I’m also a flute player, then we can play in duet!” And she kissed him on his cheek. Matthew sat there petrified. Her lips touching his cheek let his breath hang in the air. He opened his mouth, but could not say anything. He felt that he was swinging on a large velvet ribbon that moved along in huge waves, quicker and quicker, to wrap him up and carry him into another world. The champagne let tiny stars curve in his head. Carol’s head was still very close to his, her eyes shone. He moved a bit forward and then kissed her, very tenderly and without hurry, and then they embraced passionately, leaning back onto the wall, not caring about anyone else in the place.
After some, time they returned back from the romantic detour and sat upright again at the table, looking adoringly at each other, the way only fresh lovers can. And they were holding hands. Later, they went back to finish the exhibition tour and see the last shaman coat on the third table, but now they were a couple, holding each other, whispering into each other’s ear, and smiling allied.
Carol and Matthew married five months later and formed a wonderful team.
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