your eyes smiled at me, but you were holding her hand

if you let me, here’s what I’ll do, I’ll take care of you

I'm standing over here, on the other side of the street. you're fighting, angry gestures and fierce words that can't really be overheard. she pulls her phone out och leaves you standing. you follow but she raises her hand and you stay put, looking at her, frustrated. I dare to cross the street to get to the bus stop, now that this ice cold silence has settled. 

she doesn't see me, pretends she doesn't notice me, talking into her phone, whispering angry words. you refuse to look at her, turn your back, hands deep down in your pockets. should I say something, do I dare, I glance in her direction. our eyes meet, she nods, I nod, she looks away again and I can finally breathe. you stand with your back towards us, hand deep down in your pockets.

the car arrives, you turn towards her, she yanks the door open, sits down in front. an obscene gesture later the only things left are fumes and broken hearts, you don't see me. setting sun, cold air creeping up my legs, joins the cold place where my heart should be. frustrated, you shake your head, kick a pebble, hands deep down in your pockets. I'm standing over here, so close but yet so far. 

Author's Note

This never happened, but it did ... happen.

Reviews

[Luke Ritta]

A very descriptive write, intriguing, clever and entertaining.
very good:)