Polaroids |k.jm.

»alone«

With her all the warmness was gone and his room was,again, cold and unbearably empty.
When he was left alone with his thought and pleassurable feelings lingering deep down in his heart he figured that he can't run away from her. Like he was bewitched and standing alone in thet magic circle made of their break ups and days like this-full of love and happiness.
There is no way he could admit to her that she is the only glimpse of light he wants to catch and keep forever. That one little sparkle, he needed  to enlighten his room, that consisted all of him,was her smile. But not bright and wide like other people's smiles. He needed one of those small,almost invissible,smiles only she could give in the most unexpected moments. But he knew he can't have that.
Her body in his arms,dancing and trembling,occasionaly was all he could afford. Although she wanted to leave everything for life in this small room and he knew that,he didn't want her to.
Poverty and his life of an artist with a fading name was all he possesed beside the bunch of polaroids laying on the wooden floor holding the precious memories.
He knew that probably he will die from hunger or illness,because his career was over,the company of his father is destroyed and his father is six feet under ground.
All he has now are those polaroids-tiny peaces of thick paper that hold precious moments of beauty he wanted to remember.