I took a walk today.
I went to the park of an elementary school. I don't remember the name.
The playground was abandoned.
Sitting on one of the swings, I passed the time. Counting blades of grass. Watching the clouds change. Observing breath clouds.
I spent the day in the company of ghosts. I woke up alone.
It was dark.
I began to walk home. Drops began falling from the sky. The clouds were crying.
Streetlight by streetlight, I counted. I began to talk to you, saying things I would never say directly.
Lightning crackled. Thunder boomed. Everything froze.
I hate the seasons here.
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4 comments:
Wow your a real good writer charles...
It seems that you're just getting to something important when you abruptly end it with 'I hate the seasons here.' Don't get me wrong, I like it, but it seems too short. Expand it a bit.
I love the line 'I began to talk to you, saying things I would never say directly.'
Bobby-
Thanks.
Keira-
That was the point.
I want to read your mind.
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