It's OK.

It's OK; always watching the game from the sideline, holding your breath each time the whistle blows.
You may never be given the chance, but you owe it to yourself, simply because you're filling a space, to try to hang in there.

E.Y

The river is never the same.

For each time she put on a sad face they would say 'You have your whole life ahead of you,' but it wasn't the remaining part that she cared for.
If only she could dive back into the past, cut and paste all the empty sequences.

This was only a self-deception; she knew she couldn't step into the same river twice.

E.Y.

Crash Boom Bang

"Have I met you before? You look very familiar" he said when she was about to take a sip of her coffee.
"You might have, I work on the 7th floor."
As for you, you're the busdriver, the guy I bump into on the street, the guy who sells me bagels and the guy who holds the door for me when I have no free hands.

He knew her name, but was having a hard time finding her on Outlook. He searched on Facebook over and over but was without luck since he didn't know her last name. There were 10000 Rachels. Where would he start and if he did find her, what would he say?

Eric, she thought. Eric Wieber. He had 5 different suits, 8 ties and somewhere between 7-10 shirts. Every time he passed her his Acqua Di Gio scent would make her heart miss a beat and run to the balcony on the 8th floor to grab some fresh air.

That morning, the office was unusually quiet, almost abandoned. Had she missed a fire drill or something? The echoing sound of her heels seemed remarkably louder than usual while walking towards the coffee machine. She wasn't a morning person and no one could see her smile before 9am and a cup of coffee.
She pressed the button for an americano when all of a sudden,the hair on her back raised. She hadn't noticed the footsteps behind her until the she felt the scent, it had surrounded her. Damn you GIO. The balcony was so far away at this point.

She pretended to be cool as she could hear him behind her,clearing his throat for a conversation.

Crash, boom, bang!

E.Y.

I admired her for being her.
It was minus 10 degrees and I was waiting for a friend near a frozen fountain and could barely keep my teeth from shaking, while she was sitting by the edge of the fountain with her legs crossed and gazing vacantly before her.

I forgot about the icicle in me and started observing her
nonchalant manner and laid back style. She was wearing headphones and her hands were embracing a half-full bottle of red wine.
She didn't seem worried about anything, lifting the bottle to take a sip every now and then.

I wondered what kind of music she was listening to and who she was waiting for.

E.Y.

Things just happen.

She furrowed her brow as she was struggling through a chapter in the book she was reading recently.

It was so unbearable that she preffered going back to the earlier chapters or skipping one or two. Chapter 12 it was. All the characters and actions were standing still except for their minds talking. She refused to be sucked into the descriptions and depths of their emotions.
She felt like carving the pages with a pen and ripping them out. Just get on with it she said to herself, unaware that she had been clenching her jaw. The book had lost it's page turner effect and had already been put down on the coffee table a couple of times that afternoon. It was either going to be read through that day or left for dusting for the rest of the year.

She had done it many times before. Her shelves consisted of unfinished books. Either their language was too hard or they had failed to engage her. It didn't make any difference if they were mainstream or among The Times' Top Ten and anyways, mainstream she hated. She never gave The Alchemist a chance, seeing it in everybody's hands that time. Sheep mentality she would think.

Why had everything stopped lately? By everything she meant the meaning of why things happen, for in this she wanted to believe in. It was the only thing to hold on to whether that was the case or not. Unfortunately, it was typical that evolution always took its place wherever and whenever not needed.

Suddenly she awakened by this thought and placed her eyes back on the page with the tiny gloomy texts.

I'm going to finish this bastard.

E.Y

Ghost town

Everybody knew what was coming. Hence, they were avoiding her like the plague. They would ask "What's the matter with you?" but not listen as she would try to explain that there was a matter but there was nothing wrong with her.

On the contrast, she felt like the only sane person around. But that was mere agitation than comfort. It made her feel sad and lonely. The feeling of walking in a ghost town became real; streets had no name and the only thing moving was whirlwinds of leaves and newspapers.

She would have loved this town if it hadn't seemed so empty.

E.Y