Give me books, fruit, French wine and fine weather and a little music out of doors, played by someone I do not know

Saturday, October 6, 2012

What if...?

Repentance. That's all I can feel now. What stopped me? What I was thinking? Did forces of Universe stopped me of becoming  an object of compassion? 
I act like a Parisian instead- I didn't let you outsmart me. I felt regret deep beneath after that.

He asked me when the playground was built. I answered listless. Then, he asked for my address number. I was happy he remembered just a part of it, but then I start remembering of all time he'd dial that address. He knew it back then. Why did he erased it from his memory? It's just a stupid address. You will not make your RAM memory full. 

I didn't want him to call cab. I stopped him going for a little bit-I had to bought bread. I got a slightly touch across my shoulders in turn. In fact, I wanted something more. Something real, something touchable - warm. I got imitation of an intimate hug and a Good night  instead.



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