[13] – Apartment
“Where do you live?”
The bookstore had closed again
With the last jingle of the bell
As it shut behind the two
Strangers.
“Art Gallery.”
The girl pointed down the street
Away from the bookstore and coffee shop.
“You don’t have a house? An apartment?”
The girl shook her head.
“But I am saving up for an
Apartment.
Nothing too big. A small cozy one.
Empty, with blank walls.
No furniture.”
“Isn’t that boring?
Plain?
Lonely?”
The girl smiled.
“The thing is, I will fill it with myself.
I will paint the walls with the colors
Running in and out of my head.
I will buy and make
My own furniture
So that I can be the designer of my own castle.
I will have everything I love
Surrounding me, with no one
To judge me or tell me off.”
The boy stared at the girl
As she rambled on and on about the way she
Was going to fill that once empty place
With the wonderfulness that is herself.
And as the streetlights lit up her
Hopeful smile once more
The boy took a drag from his newly lit cigarette
And secretly hoped that she
Would do the same with him.
YOU ARE READING
Pluviophile
PoetryIt was a rainy day, in New York no less. One held a cup of coffee, wishing for the rain to stop. One held a hand full of old books, savouring the moment. short story #98 poetry #51
