we sat at that table for thirty minutes.
it took us thirty minutes to start a conversation.
we talked our way out of the café and back onto the street. the sun was setting and i needed to get home soon.
"well," i stand a foot away from modere. he stands looking forward. moose laid peacefully in his arms, sleeping.
"you need to get home soon, the sun is setting,"
i look at him confused. "how-"
"moose usually gets sleepy when the sun starts setting so that i know to head home."
"oh, goodbye," i turn to walk away.
i turn back around, modere was already walking back to where we met.
"do you need help? walking home?"
"nah, i'm good. my house is right down this street. i know because my pavement is uneven." he laughs and waves back to me.
i walk home.
"you can come by anytime to visit. i'm sure moose would love a play date!"
YOU ARE READING
broken eyes
Short Story"his eyes were a light shade of blue, almost grey, like his eyes were what sadness feels like. "
