Focused, satisfied, relaxed. Something is not working though, I can see that. The pen is no longer coloring the paper, still on it. One, two, three. It is been withdrawn towards his ear. The moment's gone, something lies incomplete. He allows himself to fall loftily on the back of the chair. I leave my book aside.
-What are you writing?
His eyes face mine, no boasting this time.
-Sublime thoughts.
Suscribirse a:
Enviar comentarios (Atom)
No hay comentarios:
Publicar un comentario