hiddenmuse
He sat upon the table, slumped against the wall at an awkward angle. His dark eyes studied the room as a small girl ran through the room, her dark hair swinging wildly as she laughed.
He felt a harsh twinge of sadness pang deep in his chest as she ran past.
She had not looked at him for months, just running past in a coloured blur while he sat upon table and watched the world pass by.
He only wished she would look at him and want to hug him liked she'd used to.
He was just a teddy bear, that wanted to be wanted.
There was a figure eight on the window, the clear markings evident against the foggy glass. She rested her head on my shoulder, following my gaze to the slightly askew number.
It's an eight. I murmured.
She smiles against my skin.
It's infinity, she replies, leaning across me and drawing another one upon the glass.
writing since 2011 · 4 entries · 4 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means Nadine showed up.
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the words Nadine reaches for
againstuponsateightglasstabledarkroomranpasthotsummerlearnedwanderjunkyard