M O S A I C

c h a p t e r 1

Click.

Clack.

Click, clack.

Click, clack.

Shiny heeled shoes collided with the dirty pavements of London. A confident pair of clean, black shoes, taking one step directly in front of the other; smooth and model-like that if not for the slight curve of the feet to the right it would just about pass as professional.

Movement was like fluid, how did she do it? Her black skirt hugged her thighs, her hand held onto her black hand bag and further up, her white, flimsy blouse flapped against the nipping breeze. Her arms? They were peppered with goose bumps but she didn't shiver. Her nerves were obedient to her like the crowd that parted for her without even realizing they were doing it. Her lips, painted a scarlet, vivid red held a hidden smile; the corners merely tilting up. Beneath the paint hid chapped lips.

City noise blended her into the crowd, the tall buildings carved her way as she walked through the streets of London.

***

Another pair of lips hugged the bud of an ending cigarette, soft and tight, drawing in a casual breath and exhaling out a swirling pattern of smoke. His legs crossed as he leaned to the side of the building; his face scruffy, his jeans dark and his jacket: leather. Balancing the cigarette between two fingers he watched the mob of people hurry along. He tasted the nicotine, strong and hating.

A girl approached him. A spark dropped down below his feet and was instantly crushed by his boots, last traces of vapor gone.

"Done." she said. "It's over." She sauntered to the bin nearby and threw her handbag inside followed by her shoes drawing attention from passersby. She wouldn't have done it if she cared, however. Emptiness filled the bag.

"I paid for those." The young man grunted but his voice lacked anger. It was just an attempt at assertiveness and the girl knew that too. There was always something lacking here.

Now, bare feet, she approached the young man again, her red lips stretched wide into a goofy smile. An equally dazzling smile replied back.

"I don't understand you." He said, something in his expression felt like a winking star. She shrugged, all her charisma gone, leaving a child in her mother's clothes.

As they began walking, her bare feet, this time slapped against the concrete. They merged into the crowd like two ordinary people lost in a city of beige.

They didn't talk on their journey to the apartments. Were they friends? Yes, they were but each felt comfortable in mutual silence as if they could communicate telepathically.

In the apartment building, he existed on the third and she on the second floor. He had the good view but she had the balcony. 

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Bonjour, this is my first story ahhhh

ahhhh