drawn tight she lifted her bag and slung it over her shoulder. she looked around the terminal. this was hot it was every business trip every day. there seemed to be an answer. it was a nice bag. she loved it. he had given it to her, but she didn’t love it for that reason. it was the colors. they didn’t scream at her.
too many people too many places and all nonsense. walk with attitude and you will not get in any trouble ? the terminal was crowded with everything. bright as it was, sometimes her love wasn’t enough. it wasn’t anything. it was crazy, stupid, and gone in this terrible rush of things – with book, cd player, and other stuff.
she summed everything up in sighs now. like it was too much effort to talk out loud, she guessed. in her bag was her poem. in her poem was her love. it was too bad that he would never read it. it was, her life, bittersweet. if not exactly, then at least a suggestion to hold onto.
wasn’t this where they met ?
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