I carry every book that i get from the book store for weeks,
In my pretty back-pack, i invest so much time in reassuring myself that i carry the power and courage to see new characters despite their already made fate.
With so much precision and care, i open the book after weeks of letting this new idea of a new book book settle in with my mind.
I carry out my normal ritual,
I set it at the far end of the table and I on the other end of the table with my coffee.
And once i am done taking my last sip, i walk up to it and buckle up to start the reading.
The next days are blurry,
I trip over the chairs,
I cant exactly recall where i threw my shoes, i cross the street aimlessly, everyone that i see at work or at school bears the same personality as those in the book, i wonder if they smoke alone during lunch breaks or if they are really in love with their spouses or are they faking an identity, how do they sleep at night- my reality crushes with the reality that i hold with the book, i cancel plans with friends and set new plans with my book and the daily coffee.
Fast forward to the moments when i rub my thighs together in the heat of the love making,,
Fast forward to the times when i run my hand in my hair to shake off the heat from all that i am witnessing.
Fast forward to the moments when i slam myself onto the bed, my eyes stuck to the ceiling wondering how hard it is to see betrayal in this so called lover’s eyes.
And here we are at the very end,
When she kills him, sits by his body and takes out her cigar,
And here I am sitting next to his body as i take out my cigar.
For we did this together. And as i put away the evidence, As i put this book perfectly in line with the other books of this nature,
I cant help but wonder what will be the next adventure, who will be my next victim.