Mr. Cellophane

In a location adjacent to a place in a city of some significance, what comes out of my head is plastered on the walls of this blog.

Monday, January 10, 2011

Today, at work, a girl came in to return bottles. Brown hair, cute face, couldn't have been more than fourteen. And yet, I couldn't take my eyes off of her. Every time I glanced at her, I imagined a relationship; not physical, but still, a relationship. I believed, however briefly, that a relationship with a girl like her could be possible. She's not snotty, nor is she jaded enough to believe she could do better. Will I ever meet a girl like that...and closer to my age? I don't know.



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