Fragments of Fiction

 Here are some of the scribbles I wrote these past few weeks. I can’t remember the last time I did really write something properly. I always had ideas but I couldn’t compose the beginning or the end. So, yeah. These are only some tragic fragments of fictional stories I have in my notes out of my chaotic head. P.S: none of them are related so..

— one

“Turn around,” I whispered.

But he kept walking away. His broad shoulders looked smaller from a distance.

The sunlight peeking through the giant trees touched his hair, together with the soft breeze of the summer.

“Please, turn around.” I whispered again to the wind.

But I stood there, as still as a lamppost.

Would he turn around if I called his name?

Could I even make a sound at all?

Should I just run into him like a mad one?

I took a step forward. Only a step before I stopped.

Just like I always did.

So he went away.

Further and further until he disappeared.

…

— two

You would never notice it if you didn’t pay attention. But I did.

How he would knit his brows before shaking his head when he didn’t agree on something.

How he would take extra seconds staring at me after hearing my lame jokes. As if he couldn’t believe such a strange person did exist around him.

Or how his voice turned lower when he started to talk about something that bothered him.

But I noticed it. I noticed everything.

I had no idea how or when it all started. I woke up one morning and my world was gravitating towards him.

Maybe he put a spell under me. 

Or maybe, I accidentally created another way of my own demise again. 

…

— three

“Fall is always pretty, isn’t it?” One of my friend said on one afternoon, joining me to sit by the window.

I nodded. But we’re not looking at the same thing.

I wasn’t looking at the colorful leaves dancing with the wind outside. Or to the blue of the sky stretching overhead.

I was looking at a reflection of someone in that glass window.

He was sitting on his chair, thrumming his legs to the floor. Sometimes he frowned. But most of the time he smiled or laughed with his friend nearby.

I wondered what kind of stories they’re talking about to make him smile ear to ear like that. 

Because I realized, he never did that with me around.

Until at one point he turned his head right into the window. His eyes found mine.

One second, two seconds, three seconds.

I turned away.

…

XxLAC