the End.

She.

That's all I can write after what happened last night. Words have no meaning anymore. I can't write French. That part of me is long gone.

It all started with the end. That's usually how it is. She finished her sentence and through her lips I could hear her silence. She was waiting for something I just could not give her. Her smile burnt my eyes and rendered me blind. She was too much, and I was no one.

So I ran. Without turning back.

Hole in my soul

When I woke up she was standing beside the bed looking at me. I had no clue just for how long her eyes had been running on my sleeping body but when I moved my head I think I woke her up from her dream.

There was a pile of shoes underneath her bed, left behind by their owners that couldn't stay. I looked at her, through my half closed eyes. I would have fallen in love with her at that moment, with her mysterious smile if only she hadn't been holding a drill in her hands.

On the night table, the letter I wrote her the day before slowly finished burning.