Tuesday, December 13, 2011

My Molly

          Winter break has started here at OSU, and Columbus has probably lost at least 10% of its population. Seriously, as I'm writing this, I'm probably one of only two people left in my dorm. It's strangely quiet...but I digress.

          Earlier this week, I was eating lunch when I saw a young, attractive girl (probably 19 years old). She was eating lunch alone, while typing away at her laptop. If I hadn't have had a math final in less than an hour, I probably would have introduced myself, or something more than what I did. This next piece is something I imagined after we exchanged glances the first time. (Bonus points if you can guess the origin of the title.)


"Every Man Has a Molly"

         Softly she sits. Her eyes stare hard at the space between the lines. Black hair and brown eyes. Bright clothes worn loosely. A beauty may exist in her soul but all who come close go other ways. All stand outside her world. Never has she complained until now, when the man she likes stares back with disdain.
          Food in front of him. A computer in front of her. He lives for life, but she only knows confusion. He would never go for a girl like me. Her thoughts go on. Temptation taunts the table. Lust fills her eyes. To the one she wishes to hold her, she can only be despised.
          He stands. She hopes for something more. He's done. She wants to finish. Closer, he gets. Their eyes are locked with determination. Closer still, his feet bring him. "Hey," she whispers as he goes the other way. She's lost and can only stare on.
          Life is funny. Give it credit for that at least. Some things work out, others just tear. Laughs form around silent irony. Eyes form cold tears. Late nights are dark times, but she still sits silently.

Life is but a dream.


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