Blind Eye
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They said good bye at the London eye, she’d asked him there, he wondered if she’d always get everything she ever wanted.
He’d imagined the words so many times that when they finally came it was like hearing the script of a familiar movie
I want to see other people – Oh don’t look like that – Give me a cuddle – We should stay friends.
He tried to be objective, there’d been five months with her. She’d walk up to him in a pub, or on the street, he’d catch someone looking in disbelief, wondering what she saw in him. It should be a relief that it was over, he could stop worrying about when it would end. He’d never thought it was more than a fling for her, there was some satisfaction in being right. He wanted to go home now, he might never feel this way again, shouldn’t he grab on to his misery and make a shrine to it.
Turning, he saw a girl with a Leica, she was lolling against one of the twisted fish lamp-posts. She lowered the camera and held him with a smile. “I’m not looking for trouble” she said “it was only because you two looked good together.”
The big wheel turned.
Blog photograph copyrighted to the photographer and used with permission by utata.org. All photographs used on utata.org are stored on flickr.com and are obtained via the flickr API. Text is copyrighted to the author, Rachel Irving and is used with permission by utata.org. Please see Show and Share Your Work
