Comfort Me

Zayn works in a lonely bookstore on a quiet street in New York City, away from most of the tourists and businessmen and salespeople and annoying taxis and flashing lights and loud noises. He has a simple life, consisting mostly of the bookstore and warm coffee and soft sweaters and subtle music that plays from records in his loft. In the mornings he’ll come down, put on a different record, rub the sleep out of his eyes, and begin the long day.
He knows a few people, but not well enough to call them his friends. The man at the coffee shop on the corner, the girl that sells flowers outside the record store, the old people who always come in and read books together on Thursday evenings. Zayn knows that he lives a lonely and dull life, but for some reason it never bothers him. His brother used to say that a lot of girls fancied him, but his brother doesn’t talk to him anymore and no girl has ever seemed interested. That didn’t matter though, because even if a girl did fancy him what would he do about it?
People floated into the bookstore often, and Zayn smiled at them and they smiled back. He knew most of his costumers by name now, and they knew him as well. Usually neither of them would say much; occasionally there would be a few sentences. Mostly the people liked to find a book and leave, which was alright with Zayn, he wasn’t very good at conversation.
So Zayn lived his quiet and lonely life, not waiting for anything and not wanting anything. Each night was just like the last, and he left when he needed to and stayed in when he didn’t. One night was a little different though, something happened that had never happened before, and Zayn didn’t think too much of it until after it was too late. He did what he thought he was supposed to do and just like that his life wasn’t so quiet and dull anymore.

xo -emily