Dina invited me for dinner.  Dina is my new neighbour, and for those of you who only think of meals in terms of lunch and supper, dinner is a meal that occurs somewhere in between there. I didn’t know what to think when she knocked at my door one afternoon, and asked me if I cared to join her for dinner in the evening.

I didn’t really need to think so much about it, her beauty was interfering with my thinking process. I agreed. By 6 pm, I was knocking at her door, decently dressed.

I wasn’t so enthusiastic about the dinner; I had got a not-nice impression about her husband or boyfriend, or whatever she called that guy she stays with. There was nothing to get excited about having a meal with a living nuclear bomb, just waiting for a reason to detonate.

 I mean, that guy seems to have turned beating up the woman for a hobby. He beats her almost every week, something I hate so much but I can do absolutely zilch about.

But when I walked in, I was pleasantly surprised when she smiled and called me over to the table; dinner was ready, the table was set for only two people. Meaning; her husband-boyfriend wasn’t going to be part of the meal! My interest hiked immediately, and my mood improved. We got to business immediately; I think she also didn’t savor the idea of her man joining us for the meal.

The conversation was light and friendly. She is an interesting person, she is well read, and she has the most extra ordinary eyes I have ever seen. There was no wedding ring on her finger, I checked. So I got bold and asked her how she related to that man she stayed with.

Like I had pulled the power plug, the lights in her eyes dimmed immediately. She lost the spark, and became really quiet. She didn’t answer my question, so I apologized for having asked.

Obviously, she didn’t want to talk about it, which made me even more curious, because it looked like there was a real story behind that silence. Am not the nosy type, I am simply too curious for my own good. And anyway, who wouldn’t want to know why such a pretty woman would stick in an abusive relationship?

So I changed the topic to music, to get her talking, and again her eyes, those pretty eyes, lit up. It was really mesmerizing to watch her talk and laugh and twist up those eyes. Soon, we were laughing away like old friends.

I became pretty comfortable, and I suggested we move to the sofa. She made coffee, and I can say everything was going on so smoothly that I wasn’t quite prepared when the door opened suddenly, and in walked "the man”.

Dina was in the middle of a sentence, but she clammed up as if someone had grabbed her tongue.  My laughter died halfway, and suddenly, I didn’t want to be in this house. It’s not that we were doing anything wrong, but the look on the guy’s face made you feel guilty about being happy.

I wonder if that guy had ever smiled! He walked in, threw me a heavy look, pecked his woman on the cheek and walked off into the bed room. I stood up, itching to be back in my flat and my music, and my familiar furniture, and thanked Dina for a nice evening.

I could see she wanted to tell me to stay but, she couldn’t. I too didn’t want to go, certainly not! Being with Dina, with her pretty eyes, and her warm voice, and her perfect shape was leagues better than being in my flat.

But, I preferred being in my flat than in Dina’s when Mr. Atomic-Bomb-Ready-To-Explode was around. So, giving her a long hard look that clearly spelt regret, I slowly walked out of the flat.

At the door, I turned back to give Dina one last look, and I wish I hadn’t, because, standing there leaning in the bedroom doorway, was Mr. Violence, looking at me and Dina with a devilishly suspicious look!

Ends