Mood.

She was a character in one of the books I read as a girl. It was her again in another book. And another. So it was me. I was going to become her, for I grew up reading her. Now I don’t have the courage to deny his love for it’s unusually true. And wrong. He’s someone I love and I know I cannot have. I’m going to crash when leaving him in a crowd with his lady whom he doesn’t desire anymore. But is meant to be with.
The May flowers stand in the light of streets. And the building terrace where Emily took me during mid noon, is having a weekend party with the old friends. Its trees are tied with little bulbs and balloons. The man in there takes his brandy out, gets tipsy and goes to sleep. To not open his aging eyes again.
And the man in here is waiting for my answers, that have always been in Gray.

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