"John, I'm sorry"

He improvised a love song out of the blue, in accordance with his gloomy puppy eyes and his skinny outline: he was pale as the moon and nothing would matter soon.

Both stood there in disbelief. The street was cold with the morning breeze and the sun hadn't come out yet. His singing was all wrong but it barely shook her. Moments like these made her realize that going out that damn evening was a bad idea - and it surely was. A few cars started buzzing in the distance, as she opened her lips widely, but she was speechless: he looked at her, chuckling awkwardly, a big smile on his face and tears in his eyes. Her heart knocked on her chest, asking to leave but her feet were stuck as if the cold had frozen her in place. She was the prettiest statue around, and he was the most desperate musician in the street.

Her mind, caught in a landslide of confusion, felt a rush of anxiety, and maybe even fear, when he leaned in, confident in his love. Their lips met, but hers didn't even budge. His eyes turned from affection to shame and his heart just felt like hers, only worse: she felt disappointed, in herself, surprisingly, because she wasn't able to grant a wish to a stupid, dying man. Silence set in. Why did he have to die? It made things so uncomfortable. More importantly, why bother her?

It was just a matter of time, John. "I'm sorry",swiftly, "I don't feel that way". The air grew warm and tense, as if to asphyxiate, and he nodded back, shaking.

"John, wanna get coffee sometime?", she said, when they got to her apartment, a couple blocks down the road. He shrugged, or maybe he said something, but the wind overwhelmed his timid voice, so it barely made a difference: his words were lost in the void of the breeze and she was just being polite. Sure, she wasn't going to see him before the funeral, even if their so-called date had gone any other way. He watched her slam the door, that squeaky little door.

His roommate wasn't worried, after they spoke on the phone, he knew tomorrow would be a new day, one less day full of opportunities: they'd play video games, have a few beers and shrug the night off with a "there's plenty of fish in the sea".By noon, he'd already lost, forgot her words and her smile, even if the latter was his favorite.

He woke up to a bowl of cereal and a Red Sox game: they were ahead, right from the start. Everything seemed like a dream but he was wide awake: the sun shone through the red shutters of the living room. A sweet scent of coffee rose to his nostrils and he could feel its warmth in his hands. Tomorrow would be a new day, if there was one. He'd find more fish, but no time.

#horseporn #midgetappreciation2k16 #sad