storytime

"why do you keep coming here?"

it didn't really have an answer, and it wasn't really a question. we both knew why, and it had never really made any sense. and yet everyday, for as long as we could remember, i had been coming here, and she had been asking me.

i would take her in my arms, and i would carry her down the stairs from her apartment. we would go to the park and sit, hand in hand, and watch the old men play chess while the young couple strolled by. nobody would pay any attention to us, and it was just the way we wanted it. for once. the sun would slowly start setting behind the trees and as the shadows of the fence grew long across the path, we would return to her apartment where we would sit under the glow of the single lamp that hung over her sofa.

i would smile and close my eyes as i leaned in close and she would always be the first to push her lips against mine and we would stay there, touching for just a moment. my eyes still closed she would push in against me and purse her mouth and she would pull away and i would slowly open my eyes and look at her, smiling at me.

and i would smile back and walk to the door and as i placed my hand on the knob i would turn back and open my mouth to speak, forgetting again that no words would come. and her smile would fade a little as i turned again and walked out the door, pulling it shut behind me.


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