Part 3 Mousetown..

"My love is dark. His eyes consume me in the night. He wakes, and clutches me to his frail but strong body, and the way he trembles wakes me. His lips crush mine in the semi lightened room. Then he cries. Cries for a terror he cannot talk about it. He is consumed with pain, pain in his heart, pain in his spirit. But he holds it in..He is mine. But Yet, only his own."

I walked to the woods the next day..My purple scarf glistened in the sun because of the silver strands woven through it. The way it glimmered and cast light upon my powder blue jacket mesmerized me.

I saw him in a tree opposite of the one he had been in the day before. He was sitting with his legs drawn up to his chest and had both of his arms wrapped around them. I climbed into the tree across from him. I leaned against the base and put one leg up and let the other dangle.

We sat that way for a few minutes, studying one another.

Then he said something I didn't expect.

"You know there are billions of people in the world, yet we are all so fucking alone." His lip trembled when he said that. Then he quickly laughed to cover it.


My heart stood still for a moment, because I felt the same exact way. I felt it in such a depth I wanted to drown in sorrow.

I wished I could tell him at that moment of how I cried myself to sleep every night because I had no friends, of my lack of ability to reach out.

"So who is it today Emma?" He smiled, a sweet crooked smile.

"Just me, I wanted to see if you would like to explore some of the woods with me. I know where a waterfall is and some cliffs that we could climb.. Maybe take some photos of the wildlife?" I smiled at him. My best smile. The one I reserved for those I truly cared about.


"I don't have a camera, but I would love to explore the woods with you. I have always liked Nature." He smiled back at me then. A kind smile but filled with untold sorrow.


We began to walk the path I had worn down. As we walked, I kept casting glances at him occasionally, and I tried not to get caught.

He looked good. He had on a black tee shirt and had a pack of cigarettes rolled up in one sleeve. The sleeve closest to me. He had on faded blue jeans with one knee ripped out. His hair was wild, but somehow looked neat too.

I noticed his long thin fingers. And wondered if he played an instrument.

His finger nails were clean and trimmed. I liked that. It said he cared about his appearance.

He was pale, dark circles were under his eyes.

"Why the dark circles?" I asked him quietly.

He looked at me with a deeply sad expression. " Oh, I don't sleep well. Insomniac.
I get lucky sometimes and sleep for 5 hours but mainly get 2 or 3 hours of sleep at night. Then I just cat nap throughout the day." He looked away from me quickly. Maybe embarrassed by revealing that to me.

He looked straight ahead and kept talking. " It makes me feel weak at times, ya know? Like I am always running low on energy." He looked at me then with a sad wistful smile.

And my heart ached- I wanted to trace my finger down his gaunt cheekbone. Not in a sexual way, no, in a pure way. But I refrained. I clutched my hands in my pocket instead.

I looked away quickly. I didn't want him to read my eyes. They said way too much.

by @ Nita Barrow- Zimmerman 2010
(to be continued)




Today's song, Gravedigger by Dave Matthews
Truly wonderful song...