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[Some thought that never made it into stories…]

She sat quietly leaning against the fence, under the spreading chestnut tree. Her damp hair was lifeless in the cool breeze. Her pale sensitive skin was nearly translucent. Above her head, dark leaves were rustling aimlessly following her thoughts as she was staring into the abyss. The pavement glistened with painful streaks of light. In the shade – a splash of water, cold rain water, was surrounding her feet.

She sat there quietly hoping no one will notice. She had been there for a while and intended to stay more. If any passersby had any time to look at her, they would notice how preoccupied she was. Thoughts were moving through honey, emerging as… sand wishes! The distant sparkle of a different place. The memory of a home. The sway of the sea. Falling in love, even with an idea, is still falling in love.

She sat there covering her knees bearing the marks of another world.

Povestea i se infasurase de doua ori in jurul degetului mic, precum o panglica rosie.

– Cu ce e?

– Poftim?

– Povestea…despre ce e??

– E…o poveste. Nu putem sti inca!

[written on November 25, 2009 at 11:46 am and buried in a pile of abandoned drafts]

BookFrenzy

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O pata gri intr-un ocean de culoare.

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