this time it's typed! (fic)
Untitled | Unrated | Original | 286 words
The cover's bright colours and over-contrasted. Too white and too sharp. The songs on the cd are fast and short. They're full of bass lines, drum beats and erratic guitar solos. It's nothing she's never heard, she has all the songs already. The cd itself is brightly coloured and covered in Sharpie lyrics. Lyrics that aren't in any of the songs and are barely legible, scribbled with a shaking hand. The case is cracked in a few places and some of the cd-pegs are missing so the cd never stays in place. There's a smug on the back of the cd and the tracks it covers skip like mad when she'll try to play it. There's secrets inside. Notes and keys that she'll never see. Never read. Words and phrases, moments they shared. Memories of what they had. He'll carry it in his bag for months, seeking her out and never finding her. She doesn't want to be found. He'll save the cd, put it in the box with the clothes she left at his house, the letters and photographs. He'll get the box out now and then. Go through the memories, play the cd, laugh at the skipping tracks. It's not perfect, they never were. She's gone now, moved away to somewhere he'll never know. And one day, years from now, they'll bump into each other in a distant street, far away from anyone they ever knew. A moment of recognition. A hard glance. A clenching heart. They'll keep walking, away from each other again. He'll go home, pull out the box, third time that year, look at the cd. Then he'll throw it all away. What they had is over. Her glance said everything.
The cover's bright colours and over-contrasted. Too white and too sharp. The songs on the cd are fast and short. They're full of bass lines, drum beats and erratic guitar solos. It's nothing she's never heard, she has all the songs already. The cd itself is brightly coloured and covered in Sharpie lyrics. Lyrics that aren't in any of the songs and are barely legible, scribbled with a shaking hand. The case is cracked in a few places and some of the cd-pegs are missing so the cd never stays in place. There's a smug on the back of the cd and the tracks it covers skip like mad when she'll try to play it. There's secrets inside. Notes and keys that she'll never see. Never read. Words and phrases, moments they shared. Memories of what they had. He'll carry it in his bag for months, seeking her out and never finding her. She doesn't want to be found. He'll save the cd, put it in the box with the clothes she left at his house, the letters and photographs. He'll get the box out now and then. Go through the memories, play the cd, laugh at the skipping tracks. It's not perfect, they never were. She's gone now, moved away to somewhere he'll never know. And one day, years from now, they'll bump into each other in a distant street, far away from anyone they ever knew. A moment of recognition. A hard glance. A clenching heart. They'll keep walking, away from each other again. He'll go home, pull out the box, third time that year, look at the cd. Then he'll throw it all away. What they had is over. Her glance said everything.