He wrote a letter to her. It wasn't a good letter. Scrunched in to a ball it arched
through the air, ricocheted from the back of the waste paper basket and
landed firmly amongst the other rubbish. It was one of those moments
that make life a little lighter, but today it went unnoticed.
He thought the perfect letter, a beautiful song, or a painting as breathtaking as
her would be all he needed to win her back. Yet he could find none of
these things inside himself. It was like the moment before the Champaign
cork burst forth. He had these feelings fizzing inside of himself, but they
were going nowhere. The pressure was building up and soon the bottle
would crack.
All he knew of love he had learnt from television, and he was beginning to
think he had been another victim of lies. If this were a movie all it would
take was a simple "I love you" in a packed airport and he would have her
in his arms again.
He sighed, placed a fresh sheet of paper in front of him and lifted his pen, heavy as lead.
|
