"It had been days since they'd last seen each other. Their eyes met, after a long time, and they acknowledged each other's presence:"hello". All either one of them needed was a sign. A sign to step closer or to step away... a sign to move away from the comfort zone of the grey area where anything is still possible.
Still, no sign comes and no move is made. They wait, not willing to let go of a part of it. Not wanting to risk a part of it for all of it. They will never be fully happy or fully sad. They will remain... in the middle." Wrote Sylvester in his diary.
4 comments:
aah, not 'the middle' syndrome. again.
hey diddle diddle,
the cat plays the fiddle,
the cow jumps over the moon!
what was I smoking again?
theres gotta be something better than in the middle... cause me and cinderella, goin out together... we can make it hoooooooome with one headlight... paoon paaon paoon...
here sylvio, listen to the wallflowers!
larki hussi tau fasih. :D sup sup?
I hate the middle too, but I've run out of ideas for this story.
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