A slip

Yes please
No thanks
Quite enough
Just a bit
Up and down
Here we go
Yes I like you
That’s for sure.

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To whisper

He knew
Yet he didn’t
Because I told him
Yet I hadn’t
Because his words
Unchanged
My listening
Remained
Untouched
Yet never the same.

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A sunny disaster

Some mornings, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and sigh deeply. I cast a quick glance at the reflection and a million thoughts go through my head. At work I wonder how my colleagues can stand looking at me. I really should pull myself together. If not for myself, then at least for them. For the sake of the others, I should care more. I tell myself that every day. I try to make an effort. But the sleepless nights are just becoming longer, they keep on accumulating, and I’ve become an expert at telling what time it is based on the moonlight. Dawn comes earlier nowadays. I wonder if it’s okay to wear sunglasses inside?

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Going, going, gone

Hello
Here I am
Over here
To the right
Up high
To the left
Just above
Yes
No, not quite
Wait
What
No
I’m here
I swear
No
No
Hey, where’d you go
I swear
I’d never leave you behind.

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To begin again

A story of adornment
Begins
The skyline reaches
Further
The breeze whispers
With augmented sonar
The sheer lace
Enveloped skin
Hello
Simply said
It begun.

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Tears

And he asked
Is it over now?
Deeply troubled
I stared
Yes, I replied
I believe it is.

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The worst

I think the worst thing is the waiting
For a message
A phone call
An appearance
A like
A comment
A nudge
A touch
A hello
How stupidly you just sit there
For a sign
That in most cases never comes
How you count the minutes
The passing of time
And that my dear
That actually hurts.

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To the future

She said she needed stories to tell her grandchildren, that’s why she did it. We all sat silenced at the dinner table. Her words held so much more depth than simple stories. Surely her motivation for adventure had to come from elsewhere. No, she pointed out as we asked her and she continued explaining her thoughts. She recalled that one of the greatest childhood memories we all had was listening to our grandparents’ wildly vivid, sometimes unimaginable stories. Whether there’d be truth to each chapter no one ever knew. With innocent eyes we were blissfully carried away to years before our own existence where things were completely different, or so the elderly claimed. We couldn’t question them because we hadn’t been born yet and thus had no legitimacy to do so. The adventures and mischief told of were exciting and unlike our parents’ stories, there wasn’t much of a moral at the end because frankly, grandparents’ anecdotes didn’t require that. Grandparents were allowed to be foolish. Old age justified petty crimes, the cases being dismissed a long time ago.

She continued telling us how she one day came to realize that she to-date had very few stories to tell her future grandchildren. What was she going to tell them? “Oh, children, I remember that one time when I got excellent grades” she mimicked with an old persons voice. We laughed. She was right. We had spent half our life playing it safe, saying no more often than yes, considering the future before acting in the present. But was that really the way it was supposed to work?

I don’t know if it was the excessive amount of wine which had us all nodding in unison. Somehow we all agreed. We needed to collect stories. And so, our adventure began.

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In between

A gaze
Prolonged
The beginning.

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A camouflage

Whispers in my ear
Mediocre
As clown laughs
Such a joker
Attention of all
Veiled smoker
Oh please dear fool
You’ve already chocked her.

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