Seven - ErinA Chapter by Cassidy Mask
He had light blue eyes the colour of ice, a fairly pale complexion, and gorgeous black curls that cascaded around his beautiful face and made him look like a dark angel. I didn’t notice him at first because I was hurrying along, desperate not to get caught in the imminent rain – the clouds had come out of nowhere and fast, ruining the perfect winter sunshine. But at least the clouds made it warmer, their closeness blanketing the city in a warm darkness – an electrically charged warm darkness. But as our shoulders met, I looked up into his sad face, and somehow I felt at home; It was like his sadness, his brokenness, was familiar to me. In fact, I realised after, it was the very reflection of how I felt inside. And so I smiled. When he looked up at me I just let myself fall into an easy smile – it felt so natural to smile at him – and the look in his eyes made me certain I had done the right thing. I don’t think I ever saw anyone so affected by a smile. “Sorry,” I muttered, aware how weak my voice sounded. But he just smiled back. “My fault,” he replied, and his voice was so perfect – low and easy, like breathing. But his words made my heart break because I could see from his eyes that he said those words far too often – I did not doubt that he blamed himself for far more things than just our accidental meeting – and that made me want to cry (I’m not a crying person) and hug him (nor am I a physical contact kind of person) all at once. And when you start feeling like that about a total stranger you know it’s time you disappear before you get the chance to do something embarrassing. So, with a last smile and a final look at his heart-breaking face – heart-breaking because he was beautiful, but also because he was so broken – I turned and walked away as fast as possible.
© 2008 Cassidy MaskAuthor's Note
Reviews
|
Stats
84 Views
1 Review Added on December 2, 2008 Last Updated on December 2, 2008 AuthorCassidy MaskSingaporeAboutI'm at art college in Singapore. "...I never heard them laugh. They had, Instead, this tic of scratching quotes in air - like frightened mimes inside their box of style, that first class carriag.. more.. |

Flag Writing