December 2, 2014

s u b i t o

"It's just a flick."
"Aye. 't was just a flickering. Nothing more."

I always thought human hearts were supposed to be inseparably knit, but at that moment, amidst those stitches seemingly appeared a rather candid tear.

There's never any good hiding how I feel.

I was never good at it anyway.  You know that.

"Alright," I said, "It wasn't just a flickering to me."

Silence.  Oh!! - How tangible the silence - a subito piano, the kind in a Beethoven sonata.

But to hell with the silence.  I couldn't up and tell a lie.  My heart was right.  It wasn't a flickering.

No - It was a full-blown memory - a cup of steaming hot chocolate with cream - and not just any cream.  It was a cup of steaming hot chocolate with thick, white cream foaming over the cup's searing lips...

Well, what was the use?

Some people never read with their hearts.

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