Matilda . She had melodious brunette hair that revealed thoughtful and considered rich blue eyes mixed with a green tinge that would match the most beautiful eucalyptus trees. She had a smile that would light up sydney harbour on new years eve and demeure charm to match. Her figure was sculpted like an hour glass . A swiss national.
Her personality was shy but beneath the veneer of an incandescent passion and zest for life woven through her academic discipline. A titan of the arts and letters. A historian.
A fierce independence and charisma wearing her heart on her sleeve.
Benjamin . A man of a prodigious intellect. Broad shouldered, clear eyed with an easy smile a gentleman with a boyish charm elegantly attired in style. His hair slicked back with boot polish he oozed charm with his words entertaining a flock of women all patients in his surgery as he asked about whom they were, and not what they did.
His eyes however were for only one lady.
They met along the banks of the Nyhavn in Copenhagen. A gin and tonic in his hand and a red wine in hers.
He introduced himself and she her. They spoke of life, travel, laughter and language.
And the night fell, the lights illuminated, the wind chopped along the bank and water crashed along his boat anchored, and the oars rattled through the night.
