Sighing, I tried burrowing further into my blankets. Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to will for sleep to appear. But all I saw behind my closed lids was that warm smile; those intelligent eyes filled with mischief.Fuck it was going to be a long night…*I finally fell asleep close to 4 AM, only to have to drag myself out of bed at 7:30. On Saturday mornings I went running with my friend Kat, who conveniently lived across the hall from me. Shivering slightly as the cool air hit my bare skin, I quickly dressed and hurried out the door.She was waiting by our usual start point when I arrived. Without hesitation, we both began loping along, used to our normal routine. We moved in silence for a couple of minutes, before Kat glanced sideways at me, “You look like hell.”I wasn’t surprised to hear that I looked as tired as I felt, “I didn’t get much sleep, had a weird night.”Kat seemed to perk up at that; she often complained that I didn’t get out much. “Oh? Anyone I know?”Scoffing, I picked. I felt I had found him at last, when I was already tired of looking. I took a brief minute to ask myself if it was worth it. I was too tired perhaps. There was nothing this stranger could tell me to make me believe in anything again. And then, looking at his eyes,I realized with infinite relief he would not ask anything and neither would I, for that matter. There wouldn`t be any fake breakfasts, no pseudo-romantic dinners, no candlelight to hide anything.No need to hide anything from those with whom you are set on pushing yourself to the limit, those you might not see again.I could see people laughing, buzzing around the proud artist and felt like laughing too, but for slightly different reasons. How long would it take for this crowd to forget him? And yet he believed his work would make him immortal, they would remember him...little did he seem to know the crowd would have also gathered eagerly to see his oils burning brightly and he with them...I looked at the stranger again, this.
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