Ritchie.
2015-03-25 22:55:17 /
vardag /
Comments
San Francisco, 2020.
We were reaching the end of youth, and dwelling in all we had missed and all we couldn't accomplish on our favorite spot. She was wearing big flowers around her hair, and I was still wearing my Ray bans to match with my worn leather jacket. It was our image that we lived for, because we had lost everything else that mattered before.
"I think your soul is one of the most beautiful ones, Ian." Pamela sighed as she stretched out on the sand, blinking lazily at the stars in the darkened sky.
I sat there quiet for a while, contemplating what the definition of 'beautiful' was when it came to souls, when her sleepy voice echoed with the waves. "I just think it's such a shame. That people do not appreciate it, that is."
"Beautiful souls? Ah, indeed." I agreed, emptying the lukewarm beer can I had been clutching in my hand. I followed the lazy movements of the water, covering the sand a couple of meters infront of us before bowing towards us as it drew back in mercy.
After a while her breath started to slow down and the crease between her eyebrows disappeared, changing the constant frown into a sort of peacefulness you could never experience when awake and aware of the troubles of the world.
I leaned down and kissed her forehead and whispered softly, "Likewise, Pam, likewise."
Yas
2015-03-06 11:46:41 /
vardag /
Comments
ur insecure ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
i kno what for ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
ur a bitch ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)