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A dream at the glove-maker

It was a chilly day in late November when a young student who loved tramways and light railways was on a stroll. On his way, he met three female students who were lost. As he liked to help other people, moreover, since it did not matter for him where he travels to, he decided to guide the students back to town.

"This was the former underground railroad", the boy told to the three girls, "used by revolutionists". "You know the whole network by heart?" asked one of them, called Esther. "Yes, indeed," told the lad whose name was Georges, "travelling with public transports is a passion since I was a child."

On their way back, while the three girls made sightseeing in the tunnel, he noticed one of those girls wearing black leather gloves. As an expert, he recognised at one that they were vintage ones. That girl was called Isabell. "You, who wear so beautiful leather gloves, would give a perfect secret journalist. Where do you have your revolutionary pamphlets?" "Eerr ... they are just under distribution, comrade!" answered Isabell. "Thanks for the compliment!" "Indeed, you would make a perfect distributor, leaving no fingerprints when distributing the underground journal in the pigeonholes!" continued Georges the game, to which Esther - a second girl - soon decided to join. "Where do you get those gloves? I would like to distribute illegal papers as well!" joked she.

Her friend answered: "From the cupboard of my grandmother! I loved them already as a child, when she wore them herself. She then decided to gift me for my successful baccalaureate as a legacy of hers." "May I see them closer?" asked Georges, who seemed to discover at once several girls sharing his intime passion for leather which he lived out self-confidently as well, decided to make a great strike. And Isabell took off one of them and handed it to Georges who inspected it closely. And so he knew exactly the glove maker's seat in the city centre where Isabell's gloves are coming from. So to his surprise (he did not expect to have that courage), he decided to guide them to the glove maker's house. He returned the glove to Isabell who took it on at once. "So?" asked Esther curiously. "If you have some time left ... I will interfere with your sightseeing plans. The direction remains the same." Lucie, the third student, just acknowledged: "Ah yeah ..."

Arrived at the city centre, they needed to change the line, taking them into a shopping quarter with the glove maker guild which had a long tradition in that time. They discovered on their way a poster for a choir concert where it turned out, that all the four were active and passionate choir singers. Meanwhile, they arrived at the glove maker's house. "Your grandmother's gloves are from here and whoever bought her that pair had an exclusive sense of style. That should answer your question where to get such gloves." And so they the glove maker's house where the friendly glove maker greeted them with a nonetheless strange humour. "Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen! Are you freezing? After those woollen gloves - should it be something more worthy for the hands of these young ladies?" And there she recognised at once the gloves on Isabell's hands. "My dear young lady! May I congratulate for that pair? I remember that pair, it must have been fifty years ago or so, rather 55, when I made them, then under the supervision of my father! It was one of my first pairs! Treat them - I suppose it is a heritage? - with care and they will bring you as much respect in return!" "Thank you very much, Mam, indeed, those were the gloves of my grandmother who left them to me as a baccalaureate gift." "And now, it should be such a pair for your friends as well?" Georges, taken by his cavalier courage, agreed: "Yes ... that was exactly my intention, to fit those ladies with such pairs as well." The astonishment of everyone grew in that moment to a mysterious level; but somehow, this guy was different from the regular cavaliers. So, everyone just wanted to play the game on. "Oh! A real cavalier! But maybe we let those girls speak for themselves - do you have anything in mind?" "Yes ...", replied Esther, "the gloves of my friend look very inspiring indeed. And as I just said, one really is invited to distribute illegal papers with them." "Mmh, black would look very well on you indeed, let's see if we have something like that on stock ..." And the glovemaker returned soon from her workshop with a pair of black leather gloves, looking similar to those of Isabell. "Here we are, real agent gloves. Useful for field service, but also for the elegant dinner or just enjoying them. This pair may be regarded as a direct successor of your friend one's." And Esther tries one of them, guided by the glovemaker. She feels very elevated and the others feel admiration for her. The pair fits her well ... a bit too well and the sleeve is a bit short as well. So, she takes them off and the glovemaker returns to her workshop. Lucie, who held herself a bit back, now tried a pair on her own which were too great for her small hands. "So taciturn and now so curious?" asked Isabell. "I never believed I could be worthy enough for such a pair." was Lucie's shy reply. Now, it was Georges' turn again. "If you ask me ... dark or chocolate brwon would fit you better. Maybe dark red." "But I would like to go uniform with my friends!" was her playful answer. The glovemaker - her name was Annie Gowies - returned meanwhile from her backyard with several pairs of black leather gloves, seemingly in the line of Isabell's. "I can understand that, you look so closely connected to each other. Opening up a club right away, like bikers. That works. And keeping the elegance high as well, that's the way how I love it. Then let's see." And the next unbelievable story should come along. "Here. I have made those pairs around the same time, like an alternative to your pair. I put them aside for special occasions, don't ask me why. When I may ask now your hands ..." She hinted Esther and Lucie to hand a hand each, in order to try the gloves on. But she asked Georges to help. "Young gentleman, you never wanted to clothe a beautiful young lady's hand in leather gloves?" That was fairly much for Georges whose expectations were already over satisfied. He dreamed about that situation a long ago, but never believed, that it could get real, too. He now had the choice between two sirens looking lustfully and playfully towards him. As Lucie was too taciturn for Georges, he decided for Esther's hand. He took the glove which felt buttery soft in his hands, even though it must have been several decades old. It was charged with the souls of past epochs, despite the fact it has never been sold. Then, Georges took the right hand of Esther, which let itself guide as smoothly. As he put the glove on the hand, the glove seemed to find its way on its own like silk. It was like the unification of two souls. Annie was so overwhelmed by the magic of the situation, that she felt unable to perform the try-on with Lucie. Esther meanwhile leaned closely to Georges and whispered into his ear: "The second one, too!" In trance, Georges did as told. This glove, too, should slide like remote-controlled on Esther's left hand. The try-on completed, Esther adjusts the gloves on her hands and felt lifted up like never before. "I should say, these are just made for you, young lady! Maybe the gentleman has such a chance with the second lady as well?!" And Lucie moved to Georges, too, in order to let herself clothe by him. As Georges volunteered, Annie had a spontaneous idea. "Wait, I have something particular for the lady." And she hasted into the backyard, returning at once with a quite special pair which had yellow silk lining. "Here. Try her these. It was a special order for a high diplomat secretary about whom rumours tell that some conclusions and special dodges were done rather by herself than her supervisor. It is furthermore told, that she had done much more for her country than those for whom she worked for." Alright, again a special task for Georges. And in that spirit, he asked for Lucie's hand which was as smooth as Esther's. Lucie had her hand slightly bent. But the energy flowing through the gloves attracted her hand, so she streched them intuitively as Georges put the glove to slip it on her hand. Here as well, the leather found its way on Lucie's hand and she had to close her eyes because the feeling - it was like an important part of her soul had been completed - was undescriptible. "I cannot believe my eyes ..." tells the surprised glovemaker "would you be so kind and try her the second glove on, too?" "What is so particular with that pair?" asks Isabell. "The designated wearer had an extremely special form of hand. No normal glove would fit her. But as she did not like the pair, these gloves were quite impossible to be sold. And this is the first time I see them fitting to someone!" "Alright, we gonna take them!" told the girls at once.  "We will pay ours of course!" "No, it's my turn!" replied Georges. "If I decided to play the cavalier, I have to do so until the end." "I will make a good price ... and for the gentleman ... can it be something nice as well?" Now, it was on Georges to be clothed and as Annie returned with some pairs of black gentleman leather gloves, Esther and Isabell volunteered each - Esther still wearing her new pair! - to try one glove on each of Georges' hand. It was magical. He felt like being washed in very particular oils.

The concert they visited after was a choral mixture, revealing soundscapes (like Steve Reich's Tehillim).

When after the concert, they ate dinner at the fondue bar, Esther decided to pay the round. As Georges wanted to complain, Esther takes out her box and asks seductively: "You remember those?" She opens the box demonstratively. Georges was taken by a sudden lust. "May I ask your hands again?" That was exactly Esther's intention. "Yes, you may ... Georges!" And Esther gave him her right hand. Georges took the right glove and slipped Esther's hand into it. And just like at the glovemaker's workshop, she bends to Georges' ear and whispers: "The second one, too!" - but this time, she kisses him on his ear.

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As the blog author is not linked to my main "account", I shall post here that I am responding to remarks or comments.

Moreover, I would like to point out that this excerpt is part of a longer story (82 typewritten pages currently) which will become a radio play. If wished, I may write more.


Jan 17

Magnifique story

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