it was late afternoon and the sky had turned from a bright blue to a more washed and faded blue with a tinge of pink and purple near the horizon. dan always loved sunsets. he figured he would love sunrises just as much but he was never up early enough.
the sky gave him a sense of peace and it was his favourite time of the day to write. he wrote about anything and everything; his love of flowers; his old life; his life now. it was full of poems and sketches he had done to past the time. it was his most private possession.
Where his thoughts could roam freely
the pastle boy gazed out the window, his tathered journal resting on his lap. lost in his own thoughts, he didnt hear the floorboards as they creaked a warning.
"whats that?"
dans eyes shifted to the peculiar boy who had occupied his thoughts. there was something so intriguing about the punk looking boy.
dans eyes fluttered down to his lap where his journal lay open, a messily and rushed looking figure sat on the page, a sense of lostness and solitude swept through the room.
dan shut his journal and looked away from phils eyes, unable to cope with the intensity of them.
"nothing"
