I walked aimlessly, always aimlessly without her. My thoughts swirled around me like a frenzy of debris in the midst of a tornado. Her face. Her voice. The way her eyes lit up when she smiled. How her tears felt on my shoulder when she confided her deepest, darkest secrets in me. Her breath as she whispered I'm sorry's or I love you's, depending on the day.
I was left with nothing of her.
Nothing.
So I walked.
No purpose.
No goal.
No life.
Nothing, again.
Obsessed with her and only her.
I looked into a window.
My reflection wasn't me.
Was it?
Who knows?
Who cares?
I look again.
It was you.
Sitting there.
Was it?
No, it was her.
Who?
I panic.
Is it really you? Is it possible?
You shift in your chair. The light flickers.
No.
No, it is merely a ghost of your presence.
She is not you.
But I'm desperate.
So, so desperate.
I walk up to her, your ghost.
"Can I call you her name?"
YOU ARE READING
Arctic
Random>Arctic< This a series of short stories that correspond to various songs by the Arctic Monkeys, and tell an overall story as it proceeds. Enjoy. See you later, innovator :)
