On Monday, I meet the love of my life.
We're in the mall - he's exiting, I'm entering, and he holds the door open for me, like a perfect gentleman. He smiles at me, and for a blessed moment I'm lost in his wonderfully bright and kind eyes - and then he passes me.
I sit down and forget about shopping.
On Tuesday, I return to the mall.
There's a special at a cafe I like and a sale at a shop, but all I can think of is that blissful moment when shivers dance in my stomach and fire floods my cheeks and the day is brighter than ever.
But that handsome stranger does not come again.
On Wednesday, I drink coffee at a cafe for hours.
It sinks into my stomach, filling every cold corner. The way it stirs in my stomach reminds me of butterflies, but ever so sweeter and stronger. There is a warm, cinnamon-tinted scent in it that I don't remember being there before.
I have never tasted better coffee, but he still does not come.
On Thursday it is raining, and I feel a shade of dark, heavy purple.
He is not here, and it was my own foolish hopes that kept me coming. How ridiculous it is to think that he would come to the mall again! My very own conscience nags and grips at me. This could all be in vain. That wonderful face and smile, I'll never see again!
Yes, in vain, but I have decided that even fools can hope.
On Friday, I'm at the mall again.
I've been at the mall more times in the past week than I have in the past year. After drinking my iced tea, I leave the place after half an hour, and don't expect to come again for a while.
As I approach the exit, a man holds the door open for me. I'm so absorbed in my thoughts that I hardly notice his face until I'm right next to him.
I gasp. It's the man.
But he walks past me.
Just a little experiment in the Monday-Friday thing. If you enjoyed it, drop a comment, will you? [/b]
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I love your descriptions of the smells and the rain, they were beautifully done. Only one minor thing that i picked up on was that i think when you say you sat there for hours, i think it may work better if you stated how many hours like four or five maybe, just a thought...
hey misamiera,
i really liked this. i liked your word choice and how you used just a couple of sentences to pull the reader in and make us feel what the girl is feeling. i feel like others can relate to this post. :]
--plennsterr