I. I’ve never been to this city before. I’d arrived around an hour and a half before. The city was alive and dark, and I was cold. I could see the frosted air dancing its intricate dance around my lips as I dug my hands further and deeper into my pockets.
II. I’m not really sure what brought me here.
Maybe it was the lover. The one who had been on the tip of my tongue this whole time. I had met so many others like him, but none of them had been the one I was looking for. My lover and I had always fantasised about meeting. I had scanned every face and every body looking for his, but to no avail. I couldn’t visualise it, but I would know him when I saw him. I thought that maybe, the men’s coats were too thick. Their hoods were pulled up and I couldn’t see their faces. How am I meant to see him if I cannot see anyone?
III. I don’t know what to do now that I'm here.
I inspected every building until I found one that I liked; I had to get out of the cold. The pub was small and average: an ugly, beige and maroon patterned carpet, a dark wood bar with stalls on one side and bottles of whisky and rum from floor to ceiling on the other - they were displayed like trophies. They were displayed like old books in an old library, they were not meant for touching anymore. A too-drunk man lounged over the bar, treating the bartender as a therapist.
“So, then, I told the woman I wouldn’t speak to her anymore.” “Mhm.” “I mean, what sort of wife does that? Forgets to put my meal in the oven? I’m out here, working nine to five, she could at least have some consideration!” “Mhm.”
Still, though, she listened. I guess she made more money that way.
“Anyways, I’ll have another drink.”
IV. This isn’t my usual spot.
I knew it. I could tell that he was here. I felt it in my hands, I felt it in my heart. I had been waiting years for him: the man I’d seen in my dreams, the man in my left eye, my liver, my kneecap, my lips.
I scanned the tables and booths until I saw him there, armed with an empty glass. He was looking at me too.
V. Lover, I’ve waited forever to find you.
HollyZijderveld (she/her) is a writer and student, currently based in the UK. She spends a lot of her time contemplating whether or not to clean up. If you want to read more of her work, you can find her @hollyzijderveld on twitter.