Stopped. I have been stopped. Not by my feet, but by another’s. An arm around my waist. The arm turns into a chest, a chest into a neck. A neck into a face. A boy. A boy has stopped me from my destiny. A boy with eyes. Eyes that are full of tears. Tears? He has no right to be crying, he stopped me from my destiny. Not the other way around. I look toward the cars. Until next time says the cars.
