Broken Film Music

It was tired. We were late. The broken music played out of a fire door propped open, mingling with smoke and yellow light from lonely lamps. Last autumn’s dead leaves danced and whirled in eddies of the breezes – nothing in this scene would seem to indicate romance or small secrets. It gives nothing out to keep with those few memories you did save – those nice ones we recreate if no one’s home and we’re not working and I don’t wear the right face but your eyes are closed the whole time so you can picture what you’d like. It was buzzed and we were raining with the broken music playing, in its broken way explaining that inevitable sadness lay ahead. I could not help thinking, if I’d just say what I meant I wouldn’t have this awful drabness or feel useless as a match that’s all burned up.

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~ by perfectionatrix on March 11, 2012.

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