Friday, 24 August 2007

The long forgotten

It was like hearing a gunshot. No, more like feeling a rush of malevolent air. A feeling that something was about to hit him. Injure him terribly, leave him beyond repair maybe. What would you have done? If you could, would you wrap yourself in a blizzard? Hoping that you were quick enough to freeze the hurt before it found its mark. Maybe he did, but the effort cost him. He cannot be sure though. You see, he cannot remember. But there is always that lurking emptiness. And he's afraid that if she asks him, he wouldn't have an answer. Then it would be the same thing all over again...

Grosse Pointe Blank: watch.

Feeling: not much
Listening to: Pearl Jam - Nothingman

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