It's slowly getting darker, I had tried for
days to forget about him when he called me last night, Henry. I asked
him what the time was in Paris but I already knew (2.35 AM). His
breathing was unusually calm through the wires and he spoke as if he was
trying to remember the words before he said them.
I mostly
listened, watching the sun as it set from a chair in the kitchen. "I'm
in Nice next week, you should come see me" he said. "I'll be at the
Negresco". It made sense somehow, I slept until the morning and dreamt
about an ocean.
The apartment is still empty of sounds and
movements, sometimes in the dark I try not to breathe and it almost
feels like being alive.
>
No comments:
Post a Comment