Romance and The Street Lights

 

             The cold city night filled its self with snow; windows off in the distance had a gauzy yellow kind of brightness to it. Even though it was so cold, the city had a warm feeling. This was all the kind of scenery that you would see on a post card as you sat beside the fireplace drinking hot cocoa with your family.

A silhouette came out from behind a small building on the corner. The figure slowly came into clarity; a man, he had black hair and blue eyes, they were the kind of blue that would make you think he was blind. But, he wasn’t blind; no, he was just lost in thought. He had a guitar case strapped to his back. Wearing a black leather jacket and some torn jeans, not really the thing you would expect to see on a cold January night in New York. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a single cigarette and a lighter. As he sat down on the bench on the corner of 28^Th and Market Avenue, he slowly placed the cigarette between his lips. He lit it as if he had been smoking for years, but in all honesty, this was his first cigarette in years. He breathed in, slowly but surly. The warm smoke traveled down into his lungs, it felt familiar, and it calmed him a little bit. It just didn’t calm him enough.

He looked at his watch. “1:28 now, and the bus should be here any minute.”

A second figure walked out from behind the building. This one was a girl, tall and slender, hair: shoulder length, brown, eyes: big, hazel. It’s hard to remember what she was wearing really, but the scarf sticks out. She was wearing a crimson scarf. Wrapped loosely around her neck. She also had a guitar case on her back.

She didn’t look as she sat down beside of him, he didn’t say anything to her. She just sat down. For a moment it was silent, perfectly silent, and it was beautiful. It was the first silence that they had shared for years. In fact it was the first silence that they had ever shared.

She reached into her pocket, nothing. She was cold and like him wanted some warmth in her lungs. After propping her feet up on the bench, bringing her knees closer to herself, she turned to him. “Got any smokes?” she said hopefully.

He breathed in again, this time he held it for a moment. After breathing out he reached up and took the cigarette away from his lips. He handed it to her. It was his last, and yet he was proud to give it to her.

She inhaled the smoke, experiencing the same warmth he did. She removed the cigarette from her mouth and turned to him.

“I love you.” She said

“I love you too.” ‘

 

Author's Note

this is just a short story.