FemaleUnited KingdomMember since 12 Jan 13Age 22Last online 4 years ago

  • stegosaurus
    5 years agoReply
    1 Like
    Waiting, she hears the fresh crunch of each footfall around her. She looks to be in her late teens and has very fine wispy hair. It's light blonde, worn and tied back; messy and doesn't appear to have been brushed for days. But she's out, it seems, on the coldest day of winter. I wonder why as her head raises every now and then to cast a searching glance into the distance. I watch her face, pasty white with a red tipped nose, as she scans the street reaching out before her. She looks sad, disappointed even, and her delicate features are contorted into those of a young girl struggling not to cry. I can see snowflakes settling upon her coat and entwining themselves almost unnoticed into the tangles of her hair, and i watch as she stands like a statue - oblivious to my watching her. It's then that i hear the fammiliar chime of Big Ben to signal yet another afternoon of being late, and yet i know this isn't my moment. It's not my time to worry, nor mine to claim for any other significant effect. This is hers, i can see that, and i watch with intrigue as a young man of about twenty aproaches her. He picks her up and they spin, her eyes bright and her face lit up with the warmth of a thousand suns. They kiss, and i smile. I guess snowy days don't have to be so cold after all.
Loading ...