Like so many other stories and histories this will begin with a girl.
Or wait this isn t entirely true, there is a girl in the picture, but I take it from the beginning.
My name is Angelus, I'm 25 years old and unemployed.
So how do I get my days go on unemployed, that's a good question, honestly, I do not know how I get them going.
Something I do know is that at 10.30AM almost every morning I sit in a cafe not more than a stone's throw away from where I live.
I don't do it because the coffee is especially good, or because their bread tastes wonderful.
This is where the girl comes into the picture.
Every day at 10:40, the door opens and she comes in,
I've seen her do it every day, all year and I'm in love.
Oki thats was even laughable said, how can you be in love without knowing a person's name, job or even heard her voice.
Guess you could say I was in love with her looks.
I Think no one can blame me,she is a pretty girl, brown curly hair, green eyes, slim, tall, well groomed from head to toe.
Although many would probably think it was a pretty strange thing to do, look at her every morning,but to me it felt quite natural with one exception.
The day I "woke up" out of my love was like many others.
The sun was shining, I sat down at the table by the window as I always have.
She came in the same time as she has always done, but there was something special about her.
It smelled perfume when she went pass me.
She had even dressed up in a Mori Lee gown.
Those of you who heard that name before know it's not a dress to go to work with.
Normal days, she would take her coffee and go.
Not today, she sat down at a table with a view of the door,
view to me.
I started of course to consider.
Was it me she was looking at?
It had taken nearly a year, but was this her way to connect?
I stared down at my empty coffee cup.
Should I dare to look up?
I'm doing it.
At that moment she looked down into her cup.
This is ridiculous, she's sitting right there.
I must at least say hello.
I took a deep breath but on the second I had allowed myself to think it had already been too late.
She had already set up, but not to greet me.
A suit had come through the door,the "Tiger of Sweden" Man.
Tall, well-built, blonde short hair, sunglasses from Prada, and his lips on her perfect lips.
I sighed, obviously she'll have a boyfriend.
And of course a perfect one.
We live, after all, the city that never sleeps.
New York, a little more over 8 000, 000.
The city in which "if no one sees you then you do not exist" and if you don't have a watch in gold or dress in silkor will no one ever see you.
I left my table and began to walk home.
All these millions of people out there and I felt completely alone.
