Please click play for some mood music
He went everyday to the museum to see those dark beaming eyes, that long lustrous hair and her half unsure smile. On or off his meds, this manic routine had by now had become a fixture of his life.
Oh sure, there was always some artsy liberal couple with their backpacks on a first date talking about such nonsense as Warhol and color blocking to ruin his time with her. He wanted the slap the lattes out of their hands.
They were so superficial. They weren't seeing the art he saw.
Someday somehow he knew he'd meet his exotic beauty and take her here -- but not to utter Warhol. Or to drink fucking latte.
Until then, though, he'd be content and diligent just staring at her staring back at him.
Music: "Terror (July 7, 2005)" by Fudgdubnofunk can be downloaded here.
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