FictionWhen love diesIt, too, is the work of Death:Let me drown in fictionIf only through clicheCan I spoil Death's conditionOf pulling you away.
LongingThe strong scent of smoke permeated in the air. She wassmoking her cigarette and the wind was blowing our way.I could see her hair flowing with it. Behind all the locksI could spot a glimpse of her eyes that held universes I knewnothing of. A world that would forever be lost to me. The skywas a deep blue then. A vast emptiness that seemed to pull mein deeper and deeper. It felt as if the wind was blowing mecloser towards the sky; a nostalgia I could feel beneath my skin,eternally trapped in that blue, empty space.She was someone I wanted to protect all my life. To keep her close.To keep the warmth of that smile in my hands so that it wouldnever go cold. She was my hope and I loved her. We were in high schoolback then. We weren’t close friends in particular. She had her owngroup of friends and I had the stairs on which I had usually sat onand read books. She approached me and asked if she could borrow one.But all I read were Shakespeare books so I knew none would su
CustomerI woke up with sunlight piercing through the blinds, lyingprone on the bed. She was already sat up against the headrest witha smoke lit and half a glass of rum.“You slept well,” she said with a puff of smoke and asatisfied look.“I did. You?” I asked in reply.“Not quite. I had a bad dream. I dreamt that I was in somesort of alley. It was really dark and the air was heavy. This shadowyfigure appeared and stripped me off of my clothes. I was reallyscared, I was trembling. It traced my profile with its cold fingertipsand when its hand went lower, I gave it a push and started runningfor dear life!”“If I was there, I would’ve knocked it out of its black socks andprotected you,” I chuckled.“Yeah right you would. That’s not the end of it though. Solike I was saying, I was running, right? And this thing was chasing me!It was chasing me down an alley that wouldn’t end. And that’s the scary bit.If there