Love at first sneeze

Welcome to the Spot Writers. The prompt for this month is “Spring has sprung.”

This week’s contribution comes from Chiara De Giorgi. Chiara is currently in Berlin, Germany, doing her best to catch up with semi-abandoned writing projects. Her YA novel “Mi chiamo Elisa” was published in Italy by “Le Mezzelane Casa Editrice” in September 2020. Her children's book "Şebnem ve Schrödinger'in Kedisi" was just published in Turkey by Sia Kitap and the Italian version "Chiara e il Gatto di Schrödinger" is coming out soon.

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Love at first sneeze

by Chiara De Giorgi

 

Photo by Allef Vinicius on Unsplash

Oh, spring! The most poetic of all seasons, when nature is revived, the earth softens, buds sprout on the branches, flowers appear amidst the blades of fresh, green grass, new scents fill the air, the sun’s rays get warm and strong, as if our big ball of fire were stretching, and reaching with its fingers for every remote corner of the world, to melt the lingering ice left behind by the unforgiving winter season.

Days are getting longer, daylight comes earlier, birds chirp cheerfully on the branches of the blooming trees, small animals emerge from their winter dens, to taste the air of the new season.

Spring is the time for rebirth, and renewal. And then, of course, spring brings love. Ah, yes. Love is in the air in spring. Isn’t that what they say? And if they say so, well, then it must be true, mustn’t it?

You know what else is in the air, in spring? Pollen. Plenty of pollen. Lots and lots of pollen, of every possible size and variety.

So you get ready for a hot date - if you don’t do it in spring, then when, right? - and you leave the house perfectly groomed, combed, with a dress that is clean and pressed, and a normal-sized handbag.

Ten minutes later, you’ve already used up the meagre provision of tissues that your normal-sized handbag could hold and, heedless of other people’s judgement and a thousand other things, you start reusing the used tissues. What else can you do, when your nose is dripping like an open tap? Unfortunately, they are all wet, so this is hardly effective. Your eyes start to water, and you wipe them with the sleeve of your pastel-coloured dress, leaving black smears of eyeliner on it. This means that you now probably look like a boxer at the end of an unlucky fight. Of course, you don’t have a mirror with you, when do you ever?

In the meantime, you’re still sneezing, your eyes are still watering, your vision is blurry, and, with a particularly violent sneeze, you slam into a stranger, who was inadvertently standing in front of you.

And who could it be, if not your date? Let’s hope it’s not one of those who rely on first impressions. At least he didn’t run off when he realised you were the person he was supposed to meet.

“Let’s sit inside, shall we?” he asks.

That must be the most gallant gesture anyone can make in this hellish season: “sit inside”.

As soon as you are assigned a table, you quickly excuse yourself and rush to the restroom to check the state of the disaster on your face. It’s exactly as you imagined: you look dishevelled, your nose is swollen, your face is blotched, your eyes are a palette (what an unholy idea, wearing make-up!), your hair looks like Einstein’s despite having spent nearly half an hour fixing it, even your dress is creased and messed up! Disheartened, you wash your face and try to tidy up your hair and clothes. You also seize the opportunity to steal a roll of toilet paper, which will make up for the lack of tissues.

When you return to the table, you manage to smile at your date before another sneeze disfigures your features. Politely, he smiles back at you and announces that he has ordered a drink. Promptly, a waiter arrives with a bottle of sparkling water and fills your glasses. You’re about to drown in bubbles  all your afterthoughts about the evening and your curses directed at the romance season, when your date pushes something across the table toward you.

Small, round, white, inconspicuous. You recognize it immediately.

“Oh my God. Is that...”

He nods solemnly and you can’t help but look at him, brimming with gratitude, before sneezing again.

Quickly, you shove the tablet into your mouth and wash it down with sparkling water. You feel better already.

When, fifteen minutes later, the antihistamine finally kicks in, you realize why spring is the season for romance. You couldn’t have tested your date more effectively at any other time, but now you know with absolute certainty: he must be the one.

 

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The Spot Writers—Our Members:

Val Muller: http://www.valmuller.com/blog/

Catherine A. MacKenzie: https://writingwicket.wordpress.com/wicker-chitter/

Phil Yeats: https://alankemisterauthor.wordpress.com

Chiara De Giorgi: https://chiaradegiorgi.blogspot.com/