Wednesday
9.30 p.m.
I search for my poem I put up days ago. There are yellow post-it notes pasted at the corner of my poem. They say:
What are you talking about?
Why are you not replying me?
I see you didn’t update
your poem.
Klara?
Where are you?
You should be updating your
poems by now.
Klara, reply me please.
Klara, if you’re upset
about him. There are plenty
of fishes in the sea.
When are you going to show up?
I take down my last poem. I replace it with the new one.
My note is gone.
I smile at them.
I take down the post-it notes. I put them in my bag.
I head home.
YOU ARE READING
Through Your Notes
Short Story"See you at midnight, then?" "See you at midnight, then."
