Saturday, September 11, 2010

Just scribbles

"There was a modern chandelier above us, light spilling across our faces and dancing off the mirrors in the restaurant.
It wasn't fancy or romantic. It was us. It was breakfast.
He slurped a cappuccino with two sugars enthusiastically. Realized it was too hot.
I never got sick of that look. Legitimate surprise.
Surprise that I had new underwear on.
Surprise that I woke up in time for boxing.
Surprise that I got him his favourite candy.
Surprise that I visited him at work.
Surprise that I cooked him dinner that was edible.
Surprise that I got out of bed before mid-day.
Surprise to see the scars.

His tongue coiled, his eyes glued shut.
'Thuckkkkkkkk' he mouthed at me, which I assumed was a fumbled cry of pain from a ruined tongue.
I tried to stifle a smile from behind my vanilla milkshake. It didn't matter how old I was, my tastes were never going to mature beyond blended milk and ice-cream.

We would spend the day watching movies, probably ones that he liked.
I didn't mind.
I loved him."

This is just what I found inside my soul.

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