Feelings are feelings aren't they? Mine will paint you a picture.
A room, dark and small, with the a ray of light coming in rom above. It's a clear ray of white lights that lights the room, and makes it a light shade of grey, just a hint bit darker than white. It shows a line of light on a bare back, smooth, and darker grey shadows follow the line in an ombre. Dark hair falls around in the front of this person, and their skin is exposed. A hand reaches our from the dark, smooth, and slender. The scene stops there, like a frozen scene without a clear ending.
Will she take the hand, or will she not?
Another picture.
Clear boards, with schedules written down, backpack filled with books and necessities. Even the desk despite loose items laying on it looks as clean as if it were cleaned by maids. The day shows how clean and just how organized everything is. As night draws on, the joyful music that plays from the tiny tablet, slowly tuns quieter, gentler. It's playing by itself in the dark, with the music video being the only bright light in the dark room. Soon enough, not even the music can be heard, and the only thing is dead silence. No sound, not even static.
Where did the sound go?
The cafe as you all know, works well without me, i haven't been there to check in on it for a while, but I suppose calling in once and a while works well enough, and I'm glad it's thriving very well.
One last picture.
Greyscale.
A person, a man, a woman, just someone. Wearing a hat, long coat, a combination of the dark greys and blacks, is standing. In the middle of a street. The street is filled with people, filled with bustling people from both sides trying to get through. The faces of the people going by are scratched out as the person looks at them, blank like somone erased their faces from the film. The sounds of their voices mix with car beeps, and ringtones. They sound like they're underwater.
Why is this person, a man, a woman, not moving?
