[19] – Apartment II
“I hate rain.”
“Why?” The girl asked,
As she shivered and sneezed underneath
Her blue blanket, whilst sitting on the boy’s couch.
“Because this.” The boy said,
While he poured another cup of tea for her.
“You’re crazy, you know.”
The girl reached for his blue mug
And sipped her chamomile tea.
“Fully aware.
At least I’m not boring.”
A dish broke as it slipped out of
The boy’s soapy hands.
“ ‘At least you’re not boring’?!
At least I’m not dead!
You almost had pneumonia!”
The girl sat quietly still
Sipping her tea nonchalantly
“Pluviophobic.”
“Gesuentieht.”
“No,” The girl laughed.
“Pluviophobic. Fear of rain.”
The boy frowned at the girl.
“I’m not afraid.”
“Fine.” The girl smirked.
“Nice apartment.”
YOU ARE READING
Pluviophile
PoetryIt was a rainy day, in New York no less. One held a cup of coffee, wishing for the rain to stop. One held a hand full of old books, savouring the moment. short story #98 poetry #51
