2:30 PM

Anonymous said: Tell me a story, darling.

She looks at him as though he is her whole world.

Every day, the ocean-eyed lass chooses the second row seat nearest to the window just to get a glimpse of his rusty, brown hair every time he walks by at exactly 2:30 pm. While the wall clock’s hands have not grasped the time she is waiting for, she pretends to listen to her ancient English teacher whose voice came from the renaissance. She scribbles notes about Shakespeare, and doodles roses while her mind is far away from the lectures about E.E Cummings’ poems. She simply exists as the class wallflower, aware but not participating.

However, when the boy with the rusty, brown hair struts away dutifully during 2:30 pm, she blooms like the sun. Her back straightens, her eyes sparkles with focus, and her mind wakes up from the fairytale illusions she sleeps with. Her neck would turn at 45 degrees to the right, and suddenly, quite suddenly, the world is such a lovely place to live in. 

--

Note: Published this short story two years ago on my tumblr blog.