It was a Tuesday. Sitting on a folding chair by the gardens. Through the window, I watched him stand there for some time, tapping at a blank spot on the wall.
I wasn't friends with Peter. We were just neighbors. He would invite me over for a meal, we'd laugh and talk and have a good time. We're not friends.
He should have known better than to stick around.
I'm not sure why he kept inviting me over. The conversations were pleasant enough, talking about the weather was our favorite. No one would know the effort we put in to not talk about it, the deadly blue mist that would consume us, making sure we never see a ray of sunlight ever again.
He told me to come over again. A farewell party, that's what he said.
YOU ARE READING
Into Aurora
Storie breviEven in the most seemingly perfect society, it was a society filled with flaws greater than we could possibly mask.
