A boy past me in the street.
His hair curly and blonde. Thinning at the roots, from a world of stress that could only be held within a nightmare such as real life.
Curly from the endless rain beating down on to his head, permanently bashing it back into a a huddled ball.
His skin suppose to be pale but was painted red the ice winds that battled through the people, ripping their warmth from their bodies.
His eyes set deep into his head, with bags that could only be so big if they were carrying such dangerous secrets. Lines, stayed stuck like wrinkled tissues underneath his watery eyes representing the laughter he kept close to himself.
His clothes stayed soaked and clung to him as if trying to say for him to never leave. As if they wanted to stay safe from the world around. As if they felt such a fear of being abandoned all they could do was act clingy.
His large strides meant he passed me within a matter of seconds and faded out of existence for me forever. Meaning, if was left alone with thoughts of this boy who had walked past me.
I never got the chance to study his lips, his jaw, his skin, how his muscles moved as he walked. How he sounded when he laughed or cried. He was gone. He wouldn't remember me.
Within an hour he would just be a character long forgotten in the story that was my life and I would be in his. The thought passed by and I carried on walking tracking where I was going again. Already the memories of the boy who had passed me and left me in those few seconds were fading.
I couldn't remember his soft hair, his pale complexion, his glassy eyes or his soaked clothes. He was just another passerby in the story that was life.
Walking on,
A girl past me in the street
