when i woke up from my pity party, i immediately wanted to go apologize to modere.
after bursting through the door, and walking the many blocks to his apartment, i knock loudly on his door.
i hear moose barking on the other side of the door. faintly i can hear modere asking who it was.
he slowly opens his door to me. moose doesn't run to me.
"who is it?" modere asks me, standing there awkwardly, looking around me.
i couldn't utter a word. my throat clamps up and i completely forget how to talk.
"grant, dude. if that's you and you're being creepy," he shakes his head and laughs.
i push my way through, past him and into the living room. he looks back at me, confused.
"seriously, who are you?" he asks not moving from the front door.
i can't speak.
i can't speak around him anymore.
he can't see me.
he doesn't know what i look like.
i'm not here to him.
"if you don't speak up i'm calling the police," he doesn't seem afraid to have to say that and reaches to grab his phone.
i croak out an indistinguishable sound, collapsing in a heap of hiccups and tears on the floor.
he slowly closes his door, and moves towards me. he kneels in front of me.
i hug him tightly, crying harder.
i don't explain why i was crying to him.
it's because i don't know why.
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. "
