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She stands by the bar next to me thinking what she will order next. She is drinking like crazy all-night and she wants something different.
The bartender smiles at her and asks, "What do you want, sweetie?"
Before the bartender come over, she had seen some bottles stocked near the corner where she stands. Now that the bar is busy, she figured she'd try something silly.
We are two 9-year-olds, sitting on the park bench waiting for the parade to pass by. Today is the first day of the most-awaited Town Fair. My best friend, Jessica and I couldn’t sleep for days busy imagining the sweet pink ice cream and blue cotton candy–-the kind that we only get to taste every Town Fair. They don’t usually sell these stuff here on any other days.
His walk from the water edge to the rock where I sit was like forever. Then, I felt his warmth, his skin lightly touching mine. He sat next to me. Gently, he took my hand, kissed it, and pressed it against his chest. I froze. I felt my hand sweat. The back of my hand could feel the rapid beating of his heart while he rubbed his palm on mine with his other hand.
The living room is in semi-darkness, with blinking lights coming in through the kitchen door slits. "Breathe" by Blue Chantrel with Sean Paul is playing in the background, blending in with sounds of laughter, shouting and other party noises.
It's been two weeks since I finally decided to let him go and still hurts whenever I think of him. I know deep down I still love him but I also accepted the fact that there would never be him and me ever again. Not today, not tomorrow, nor in this lifetime.
I end up all the way through the late hours of the night, unprepared. I have no energy left and too tired to fall asleep. I make an effort to decide in which direction to settle, which room, which comfort, if any?
One day, Stevie was hard at work in his father's shop when he came across a most peculiar customer. It looked like a horse, but a jagged, bony, horn stuck out from the center of its brow. Its fur was flaming red. It had a bright golden mane, and a golden sickle and hammer was tattooed on its right back thigh.
Stevie asked, "What can I get you, kind sir?"
"Do you get paid as much money as the person who owns this shop?" The unicorn spoke with a hypnotic voice.
As day pass me by, I can't help, but wonder how lost I am here. I don't feel at home. I don't feel at ease. Yes, people, I finally admit that being in the west is not what I can call "home". The east sounds so inviting, plus all of my friends are awaiting for my return! Life here differs so much from there. It's like being in another world. A world where time stood still and goes in slow motion. Being there gives me such a rush. A rush that I never felt before, not even back home.
I have become the suggestion of a stranger... the invited intruder.
Where is the phantom entrance to somebody’s somewhere?
I am fading from view.
I am nothing but a flicker.
I am nothing but a speck of dust, floating and shimmering in the air.
I am in the middle of it all just like you.
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