Monday, April 8, 2013


Seen on the Purple Line to Linden at about 9 a.m.

He is exhausted. You can tell by the bruisey gray smeared around his eyes, the heavy lines on his parchment skin, the greasy, diminishing hair that he didn’t bother to brush. All Vlad wants to do is be someone he’s not, but the charade is taking its toll. He simply isn’t made to spend his time yelling in loud bars, dancing, smiling, touching. He’s not made to eat spicy food. He’s not made for a city. He’s not made to be confident. You can tell by his pursed lips, his retiring chin, his sloping shoulders. If Vlad were a recipe, he’d be one part inconspicuous, one part shy, a spoonful of awkward, and a dash of low self-esteem.

Okay, so it's more of a description than a story. These things happen sometimes.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Please leave a comment! It always makes my day.