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I didn't know Misty's real name. Once, I asked for it, when she… - Writing100 [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]
Writing100

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[May. 11th, 2006|11:44 pm]
Writing100

writing100

[maartje]
I didn't know Misty's real name. Once, I asked for it, when she walked out of my shower pink and perfect. She just smiled and tapped my nose: "Does it matter?" I guess it didn't.

We had fun, went to the sea, ate popsicles on the pier. With the popsicle dripping all over my left hand, I kissed her, just once.

The day was pink and perfect, like our watercolor popsicles. It couldn't last, I knew it would melt. I never threw away the little wooden popsicle-stick; my last tangible evidence of Misty I keep taped somewhere in my journal.
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