i asked moose's owner to maybe walk with me to a café five blocks away. i told him it was pet friendly.
he told me that as long as it was seeing eye dog friendly, he was all right with going.
my chest burned when i walked beside him.
not with pity, albeit i was upset.
why am i doing this to myself. just today i decided to write STOP on my forehead just to get attention from the person that completely ruined my life.
i wipe the huge word off my face, and hold the door open for moose and his owner.
i find us a booth by the window.
"smells nice in here," he tells me, still holding the puppy's squirming body.
"it's my favorite spot. i go here every day," i fumble around with the table napkin. my chest is completely burning.
my ex-boyfriend comes here almost every day too. in fact, the day before i had told him STOP and asked him to leave, he had taken me here for an anniversary treat.
"never caught your name," i ask him.
the waitress comes to our table and takes our orders, then leaves us to ourselves.
"it's modere," he turns, to stare, out the window. "how 'bout yours?"
"it's hermia," my chest stops burning.
YOU ARE READING
broken eyes
Historia Corta"his eyes were a light shade of blue, almost grey, like his eyes were what sadness feels like. "
