Rating: Original.
Words: 208.
Rating: K +.
------------------------------------------------ ----------------------------------------
was simply a corridor. A long corridor with no doors with a window through which seeped lonely dim light of an overcast morning. The floor was wall to wall carpeting and the carpet was a bone ivory tone.
Under the window was a piece of furniture, pine corner Lacadeo. Short. Brown. I had no drawers or doors, just a white linen folder neatly resting on its surface.
it had a thin glass case. The edges were smooth, rounded. White light passing through it and refracted, bathing immediate atmosphere with a rainbow aura.
Inside the box was your photo. The image of you, showing your upturned nose, the sweet honey from your eyes, your precious cAmber Abello; your chin proud, your rosy cheeks, full lips and your cocky, your crooked smile, that leaves me breathless, was what always chasing this dream, but at every step the box will be away more.
Each new attempt, another detail of your face was lost in the abyss of my memory, which could never occur, because you were not with me memories that I have to conform.
------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------------
