i decided to study braille.
so over the course of a few days, i was able to read it not entirely without modere's help.
almost every afternoon, i spent hanging out with modere and moose, sometimes visiting the dog park, sometimes grabbing a coffee before going back to his apartment to help him paint.
eventually modere decided to take me somewhere new.
he sat on his cushion around his dinner table. he sat staring at a wall, as i stood in front of his windows, reading his new painting.
"do...you...wanna go with me..." he hesitates playing with his sweater, crossing his legs under him.
"go where?" i stop reading, looking at him, watching him fidget.
"to a place..." he drawls out, he scratches his ear awkwardly.
"come on," i stomp my foot, waking moose up accidentally.
"to go to an art show." he stands up, and stretches his arms above his head. his sweater moves up, and his brown stomach peeks.
i grab my coat, keys and moose and unlocked the front door.
he laughs like he always does, his smile wider than the horizon its self and grabs his own coat, following out the door.
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. "
