tiny vessels [a.k.]

prologue

               the ginger streaks in her naturally dark hair was what first pulled on the knots in my brain, intriguing me further as i stared down at her from my position on the stage. 500 people were looking at me but my gaze referred to hers. prying myself away i move to the opposite side of the stage so maybe my attention will go elsewhere. she was young and she was a fan, i can tell by the way she turns to her friend -who is here so she didn't come alone- and excitedly jumps up and down when i announce the next song. i've seen her before at our concerts, probably 4 others, all in new york except the prior one in connecticut. she's devoted. i don't want to end the show because i'm worried i'll never see her again but as we reach our encore her friend and herself are pushing out of the crowd to wait by the door.

    i guess shes not a fan or turbulent because her and her friend leave with excitement in their eyes. i imagine shes waiting for me outside that door but of course when we're leaving for the bus, shes no where in the crowd of people waiting on us. i wonder when we'll meet eyes again.