And he asked her: “Will you stay with me until the end of time? Will you stay with me until the day I die?” He tried to look into her eyes, but she was a blurry image, a mirage of a broken mind suffering through another heatwave. He mouthed the words over and over again, until they didn’t make any sense anymore. He sat on his bed, feeling every drop of sweat running down his overheated body. He dreamt himself into songs and movies and memories and places from the past. Anywhere but there. His phone vibrated next to him. “Hi, just checking in and saying hello,” the text read. He looked at the picture of the girl. She knew the good, the bad, and the ugly. Maybe this was meant to be after all. He ignored the text, grabbed his guitar that lay sleeping next to him on the bed, and drifted off to a creative headspace where the world faded, and nothing existed anymore.
(10 minutes, 166 words)
reflections of an unquiet mind 