The Raven

I'm a petite dark haired, mysterious eyed raven, sweet dreams. 

"Ladies and Gentlemen, introducing the Depression, The petite Raven, The Attitude. This young lady is by far the most mysterious and mesmerizing young adult. Believe me you will never see another one like her!" 

(Crowd applause)

 

The Raven

 

   I sit by myself in a small cafe, the walls are lined with books, books and more books. There sitting on dusty old shelves in neat stacks.

"I've read and reread more then half the books in this joint." I whisper to the persian cat sitting on my feet. The barista brought my latte over, smiling. The smell of pumpkin and different spices wafted through the air. 

"Thanks." 

"Sweetie, all the men in here are staring at you." 

"Oh, I thought they were staring at the cat." I blushed and laughed a little, cupping my latte in both hands. The barista smiled noticing the cat and departed quietly, leaving me to my reading. I dared to peak up and glance at the men sitting at different tables. All were very good looking and seemed highly eligible. But something seemed off behind their eyes. As if a warning sign was lite up on their foreheads...I returned to my book a moment later refusing to look back up. 

Edger Allan Poe, The Raven was my favorite poem. I always wondered how he created such a beautiful and mysterious poem. I once long ago gave poetry a shot, but I never had what it took, I tried and failed many times. 

A few hours passed me by. The men slowly dispersed until I had the joint to myself, along with four new numbers. I'd been giving love a lot of thought while they were staring at me, but as they left the thought dissolved and something like modern sadness kicked in. 

I walked round, rearranged books, picking them up and setting them down in different places. I picked the persian up and carried him to the window seat. 

"So many Christmas shoppers, of course they could be birthday shopping. Halloween has passed, sadly. Maybe not for you." I stroked his black coat thoughtfully. "I wonder what Autumn is like in Africa? Probably very beautiful, I doubt I'll find a book on that here." 

(The cat purred). 

The End.

 

Well at least I'm not talking about hookers, mother. As for my attitude I'm trying to be British is it working? Europe is lovely this time of year, I always wanted to live there. I think my life would be better there. Just a name, just a clumsy name behind a stupid chromebook. Oh I think not! No I wouldn't want to make it easy, after all we all die. That makes life a damn game. Well it's my time to leave with the knowledge and acceptance that the world is ending. Spread Modern Sadness wherever you go. The feeling of sadness and modernism. 

First edition: 0/3/15

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