every single time she would speak, think, understand or feel she would go frontwards
one day she told me her story... . it was in an old bar, and we met there by chance. it was pouring rain outside and we decided to pour some drinks on our own. it was long time since i saw her... well, since i listened to her. this time she looked more relieved
i started drinking some low class bourbon while she was looking at me, not touching her glass.
for some reason, every single set of words that come out of my mind sounded dull and arid. i drunk another sip to bellieve myself more intresting or to make an alternative for a rainny afternoon.
i understood i couldn't challenge that rain when she looked and me and started telling me her story.
after two hours the bottle was sand dry, but my lips were arid as my mind was before. miss saphiro looked at me with her wet catty eyes fulled with low class bourbon, looking straightforward as always.
she kissed my face, and asked me if i was feeling all right.
before i finished my yes she walked out of the bar, without looking back
the rain had stopped
what story was that b?
sorry h, i don't wanna go back there
