We met in one of the new high tech shopping centres that opened in the city in recent times. I could not help noticing her, a tall, attractive red hair, with the most remarkable angel face, who was looking around the same cameras I was interested in.
But it’s her who started the conversation. She enquired if I was a professional, presumably meaning “photographer”. At that instant I was looking at the new Nikon, an amazing masterpiece of optics and electronics, far too sophisticated for my modest talents, and priced well above what I could afford. I told her so, she was amused. Her crystalline laughter surprised me.
She said she was a model, which was plausible given her looks and body, although something in her poise, and her choice of words, made me wonder. We chatted amiably about cameras, modelling, art and finally she invited me for a coffee just over the alley, a shop full of glass, leather and stainless steel.
“You know,” she said as we settled down in uncomfortably deep armchairs made for another species, “You can have that camera if you want…” She was serious, and I misinterpreted her words. “O no,” I replied, “There are more important things I want about now…”
Again I was disconcerted by her smile, enticing and a little too provocative for my taste. “I meant you could have what you want, all that you want, and maybe I can help you see how?”
I froze: once again I had been fooled, almost by surprise, the devil adopting the form I would be most likely to let close to me. I was an idiot. I looked at my companion straight in the eye, seized the little crucifix that I never leave behind, and of course, (s)he had disappeared.
I wanted nothing, other than forget this encounter: Satan is everywhere, spying on our desires, waiting for his time to strike, in whatever form. I want none of it.