the dance of the ink riddled fingers

beside the bus stop, broken.

Posted in frozen frames, thought spills by enisea on 28/04/2010

It was brilliant today, Sun looked amazing, but just because she looked good, doesn’t mean she was warm. She warned of impending chills; she would soon turn from us, teasing from windows only to taunt her adorers from afar!

And he lay a stone’s throw from her touch, sad, abandoned and waiting. Waiting for somebody to end his misery and embarrassment soon or to try to fix him, but he doubted anyone would hope beyond his marred and dislocated truth.  I approached him and he was still damp with tears. She wouldn’t even shine on him. Perhaps because he never saw her when she was out, he only came out when she was away, and now she would have nothing to do with him. I could have heard her laugh at his disfigurement, with a certain menacing denial. Nothing could be done now. He was beyond repair.

I tried to capture the scene so he wouldn’t be forgotten, there was a sad sort of beauty there.  May I never be so cruel regardless of your ignorance or neglect of our friendship.

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