day ele v en
2:03 a.m.
"so who broke your heart?" he asked. "i can kill him for you."
i laughed softly. "there's a word for this, and i'm quite sure you know it. murder, young mister. we won't want you becoming one, eh?"
he started to swing on his seat. i stayed on the ground, still looking straight forward.
"why don't you just let me see your face? you're so enigmatic."
"using the words i've been teaching you, i see." i smiled lightly.
"you can't see, since you never look my way." he said quietly.
"why do you want to see me face?"
"i want to see who you are. you never told me your name, your family or your friends.
"it's like this friendship isn't real."
he walked away from me.
the tears, which have been gone for days, came back.
but i do not know the reason of them, only the feeling of great loss.
---
whoops
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swing ➳ clifford
Short Story“swings are used by one only, but it needs the occasional person behind it to give a push.” © annette yes, lowercase intended and all that jazz. {please note that this is entirely fetus me}
