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Description
I just couldn't dare to commit a crime of telling him how much I craved for our paths to cross on that memorable afternoon. It would have been inapropriate and ruin my precious moments before falling asleep for the next few months, if not even years.
The sun was ridiculously gold, contrasting with the dirty blue sky and all the things on earth, each and every object in the street was telling me to shut up, make a use of my eyes more than I usually do. On a day like this, great things happen. Heartdrops fall down like rocks and not a single person gives a damn, lost in a rush, running to the nearest subway. They seemed as if they were going to be late for tea. The black cabs were impossible to differ and I thought I saw him in every single one. Though he doesn't usually move through the town in that kind of vehicles. He lives for great stages and books of wisdom.
What if he doesn't care 'bout anyone but himself? Is he doomed then, or rather, I'm the one who's doomed, because I tend to find more and more inspiration in that marble face? Hell, always these long distances, they really can suck the life out of a man. God knows why I thought about this wicked soul, when I should concentrate on catching the moment, stop and stare, inframe the simple beauty of a typical view.
Paradoxically, I never felt a greater distance between me and Richard, as I did then. I've seen the streets as too modern. Perhaps he would never understand my almost psychotic taste in men. Or maybe he got tired of me and all my demons, my constant need for creation, or the sound of my heels on the sidewalk. However, my hope for a connection was still shining with a bright spark.
I needed to cross my favourite bridge, sit on a bench and calm my thoughts down. I have melted into the big city and it didn't intend to bring me back. In fact I didn't mind at all. It felt good, it really did. The colours were so vivid, that's what I like. I should never forget that most importantly I came there as an artist. So I'll take pictures, I said to myself. And some oysters for desert, it sounded like a good plan indeed.

* * *

A telephone box and Big Ben, the symbol of London, on a sunny afternoon. Constantly impressive.
Story by me.

London, England
June 2010

Description
I just couldn't dare to commit a crime of telling him how much I craved for our paths to cross on that memorable afternoon. It would have been inapropriate and ruin my precious moments before falling asleep for the next few months, if not even years.
The sun was ridiculously gold, contrasting with the dirty blue sky and all the things on earth, each and every object in the street was telling me to shut up, make a use of my eyes more than I usually do. On a day like this, great things happen. Heartdrops fall down like rocks and not a single person gives a damn, lost in a rush, running to the nearest subway. They seemed as if they were going to be late for tea. The black cabs were impossible to differ and I thought I saw him in every single one. Though he doesn't usually move through the town in that kind of vehicles. He lives for great stages and books of wisdom.
What if he doesn't care 'bout anyone but himself? Is he doomed then, or rather, I'm the one who's doomed, because I tend to find more and more inspiration in that marble face? Hell, always these long distances, they really can suck the life out of a man. God knows why I thought about this wicked soul, when I should concentrate on catching the moment, stop and stare, inframe the simple beauty of a typical view.
Paradoxically, I never felt a greater distance between me and Richard, as I did then. I've seen the streets as too modern. Perhaps he would never understand my almost psychotic taste in men. Or maybe he got tired of me and all my demons, my constant need for creation, or the sound of my heels on the sidewalk. However, my hope for a connection was still shining with a bright spark.
I needed to cross my favourite bridge, sit on a bench and calm my thoughts down. I have melted into the big city and it didn't intend to bring me back. In fact I didn't mind at all. It felt good, it really did. The colours were so vivid, that's what I like. I should never forget that most importantly I came there as an artist. So I'll take pictures, I said to myself. And some oysters for desert, it sounded like a good plan indeed.

* * *

A telephone box and Big Ben, the symbol of London, on a sunny afternoon. Constantly impressive.
Story by me.

London, England
June 2010