Late night latte...
WELCOME TO THE BREWHA...She sighs. And takes another sip of her Americano Latte with whipped topping and a shot of espresso. Pulling out the Composition notepad the singers voice rattles her ears, his words pumping through her, this one...is that what he meant?, its a gathering place for starving artists and angsty rebellious teens angry at the world. She isn't one of them, a nerd, possibly. But not really no, she's liked by a reasonable number of the other seniors at her high school. Despite being a highly liberalistic democrat in the largely republican populus of a small town in Indiana. And the muse of inspiration refuses to show his face. Instead of writing an angsty poem about the lack of said inspiration, she smiles and lets his words sink deeper into her psyche "and the truth is..that I miss you and I'm tired" he slows his strumming with the last bridge. She claps for him as he finishes and her deep brown eyes catch his blue-ish green ones. They both smile, for they have a secret too. Granted he's 26 and she's only 18, but its a secret none-the-less. No one else knows, no one else really cares but they do. They don't sleep together...(if thats what you were thinking) they simply talk, and listen. Which is the most important fact in each of their lives. The local coffee shop is nothing to brag about but its a comforting atmosphere for both. No, they don't feel as if they are against the world, but its just nice to have that feeling of a warm body in your arms and knowing that the other person is there, hearing and caring about what you have to say, even if it doesn't really matter. And its nice to be held, thats her favorite part, him holding her almost as a lover would hold her, she doesn't have one. He comes close enough though. As his sketch on stage ends, she's up at the counter ordering his usual, a macchiatto double shot. They then sat on the couch and began their weekly secrets...a late night disscussion over a nice warm late night latte.


0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home