My car passed out in the middle of the road. I stepped out of it, strolling to and fro around its recumbent, metallic body and I received the shower of the thick darkness on my skin, on my soul and inside my mind. I asked myself where the hell I was and the dreadful echo of the solitude answered me: ‘In the middle of nowhere!’ I knew that I had got astray before my blue Mini had its irksome seizure, so the encounter with the deserted highlands of the unknown came as no surprise.

Left hand leant on the hip and legs stretched, I began to chew my upper lip and to bang my fingers on the hood. All of a sudden, two car lights spat their beams on the windscreen of my tiny vehicle. I turned round and I saw the heavy body of the other car approaching. I waited. Five or six seconds later, the car stopped next to me. I waited again. With a creak opening of the door and the sound of a snap on the road, the driver got out of his car. He peered at me; I stared at him. His complexion was glowing in the shadowy light of the beams. The shape of his body was telling its appealing story beneath the white T-shirt and dark jacket. I licked my lips. He smiled. Then, unexpectedly, he turned on his camera and started to take me photos. Click-click, flash, change of angle, another click-click. Eyes bulged and mouth ajar, I could not move for a couple of seconds. By the time I was finally able to utter some words, he had already hit the road. I shook my head and I frowned. Such a handsome, weird, rude, (handsome again) bastard!

The cold darkness started to dissolve its black veil in a tapestry of threads of water. Pouting, I got in my broken car and I turned the screen wipers on. I even fastened my seat belt. I waited again. Eyes shut, I began to hum a soothing song. I was trying to remember the lyrics of my whispering hum-hum, when the noise of creaking wheels penetrated my hearing. I opened my eyes and I saw the same strange photographer fighting the heavy downpour in  his way towards my car. I opened the door and I put my foot on the wet concrete. With a rapacious gesture, he seized my waist and made me thrust my head dangerously close to him. I rested my bewildered gaze on the intriguing view of his face and body. The drops of rain streamed down his cheeks, flowing among the prickles of his young beard. His soaked eyelashes circled two piercing, coal-like eyes. His soft upper lip let the miniature waves fall on the lower one. His gorgeous chest hosted all the water absorbed by his sheer T-shirt. One by one, crystal-like balls of liquid forsook the blossoming ends of his shoulder-reaching, golden hair. His appearance beckoned on my eyes, making my inner crave stir. Then, all of a sudden, I felt the burn of a clinch on my arms. I caught a glimpse of his claw-like fingers and I heard him saying: ‘Are you listening to me, crazy girl? Is the rain such a good friend of yours? Can you move, please? I don’t want to die from pneumonia. Can you do me a favor and move your feet once and for all?’