firefly

31 2 1
                                        

⌠ 1 ⌡

Her words ring quietly.


A seagull lands nearby,

picking at her apple in the dirt.


Takeshi turns his head away.

"Quit being dramatic," he mutters.


Eri is still,

fingers tight around

the thin stick.

A whisper of a smile.

"I see."

She nods.

At someone.

Or no one.


She turns slowly.

Her sandals twisting

on packed dirt,

until her back faces us.


Yura stands sharply,

hands hitting the table.

"Takeshi, you-"


"Yura," Eri's voice.

She shakes her head.

"It's fine."

Her feet, slow motion.

Down the path,

lantern light

slipping across her back.


"Wait!" Yura calls.


Eri stops.

A smudged reflection against the trees.


From the side,

her blank face scares me.


"... I just want to be alone for a bit."


And she keeps walking,

heading down the row of 

bright festival stalls.


Toward the sound of waves breaking

far in the dark.





⌠ 2 ⌡

I hear her breaths first.

Yura's lips,

twisted in a way I haven't seen.


Takeshi pushes himself up.

"What is this crap?"

A sharp mutter.


Yura's voice is cold.

"I never knew you were such an asshole."


He looks at the koi swimming in circles.

wingman | Cell Phone NovelStories to obsess over. Discover now