I Love The Way Olive Skinned Girls Look Against...

Walking back to my apartment, I thought about my surreal date. I also thought about the painting. The nostalgic smell of burning candle mixed with her exotic perfume was still lingering in my nose. Still thinking, I switched on the phone and immediately a familiar music pulled me out from my reverie. I picked up my phone."Hello (my name), I have been trying so many times to reach you." The voice of the lady at the other end was fraught with urgency and sadness. Before I could reply, she said, "I'm really, really sorry that I couldn't make it today ... my brother got into an accident ... I'm in a hospital ... its nothing serious..." Some hesitation. " ... you are not mad, are you? Can we postpone our date for next weekend?"My phone didn't slip from my hand. Nothing so dramatic."Okies", I said.Millions of people are dead, are dying, each with dreams and worlds. Each of them thought they were irreplaceable. Each of them thought they were unique, the most important and inimitable cog in. ‘I’ve got another call coming and I’m too weak to take it.’ I never got the chance to reply, but it didn’t matter. I dropped to the bed, my chest heaving. It was nearly an hour before I went in to clean myself up before slipping into a pair of panties. I grabbed a robe, but threw it on the chair as I left the bedroom. ‘What’s the point?’ I said, to no one in particular. I was a mess. I tried on the clothes, but they all fit fine, and later, I sat in the living room, tears sliding down my face. It just made matters worse. Were they tears of joy, or tears of confusion, worry, or what? I should have been jumping up and down with joy, but the doubts refused to go away. I put the clothes In the laundry room, and opened the case of clay. My intent was to focus on my sculpture but the drawing I was basing the piece on, of Jennifer, of course, kept coming to life on me. I not only saw her, I heard her voice, felt her lips on mine and her body next to me. This was not going to work if I.
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