In class the other day we read some flash fiction, or short-shorts. It’s basically super short stories. I am practicing.
We met, she talked, I listened. We danced, we hugged, we sat in silence. It was three years before we realized that there was never anything there to begin with. Two people who needed to be held. One could listen, one could talk. There was never anything there to begin with. People are walking outside. The sky is cloudy and their clothes are bright. They know their destination. They are expected somewhere. Wanted somewhere. They are hurrying to get there. I am here, alone in silence. Wondering where to go. Wondering if I should go. Wondering if I will ever have my turn. What do I have to hold on to? There was never anything here to being with.