Thank you, Stranger, for your theraputic smile.
ch.1
It's one of those things.
You close the book that can only ever bring your mood down,
Go over to the window and look out to the city sky.
There's a little girl hot on her mothers tail in the heavy air,
A piece of candy so tightly clenched in her hand,
You swear any second, it'll burst.
A man walks down the street with his wife,
the happy couple giggling and snuggling like it was their last night together.
They turn the corner as a boy walks past them.
His hands are clenched tight in the pockets of the red hoodie resting on his sagging shoulders.
With each step, it's as if the anger swelling inside of him is almost ready to burst.
He's having a troubled time tonight, You think, as he walks along the street with his eyes firmly glued to the ground before his feet.
There's no way he's having a good day.
A piece of hair slips over his eye momentarily and he brushes it away, looking up towards the sky.
He catches a glimpse of a girl, hanging out of her window, arms propped up onto the sill and her hands roughly holding her head up.
Her hair drops into the space behind her glasses and she smiles as she brushes it away,
noticing that the boy has stopped, cold in his tracks.
He's looking at her.
Their eyes lock.
She sees the hurt.
He sees the love.
She only wants to heal him.
He only wants to love her.
She raises her hand in a form of a wave, the slight motion of it affirming your thoughts.
He just looks back at her.
Her smile falters.
He raises one of his hands away from his pocket where it was firmly clenched before.
He pulls down the hood of the jacket, away from his ink-black hair.
The motion of his hand is now corresponding with the one with hers.
They let their hands drop simultaneously.
She smiles.
He does too.
They both pause, not knowing where to go from here.
She brings new motion to her hand, in the form of a beckon.
His eyes turn wide.
You know what he's thinking.
Me?
She nods in the form of a laugh and an affirmation.
He begins to reform his path, making it lead straight to her.
She recoils from her window sill, the faint footsteps of her bare feet trotting down the steps echoing out into the calm and humid Chicago night.
He knocks at her door.
She opens it with a smile.
They both move their mouths in a form of a greeting.
But now he's moving closer.
She's stepping out the doorway.
Their lips touch softly.
A kiss erupts.
They barely know each other.
Now they know more than any other can ever know.
If you could only believe in love at first sight.
We could grab it for ourselves.
It's true love.
You close the book that can only ever bring your mood down,
Go over to the window and look out to the city sky.
There's a little girl hot on her mothers tail in the heavy air,
A piece of candy so tightly clenched in her hand,
You swear any second, it'll burst.
A man walks down the street with his wife,
the happy couple giggling and snuggling like it was their last night together.
They turn the corner as a boy walks past them.
His hands are clenched tight in the pockets of the red hoodie resting on his sagging shoulders.
With each step, it's as if the anger swelling inside of him is almost ready to burst.
He's having a troubled time tonight, You think, as he walks along the street with his eyes firmly glued to the ground before his feet.
There's no way he's having a good day.
A piece of hair slips over his eye momentarily and he brushes it away, looking up towards the sky.
He catches a glimpse of a girl, hanging out of her window, arms propped up onto the sill and her hands roughly holding her head up.
Her hair drops into the space behind her glasses and she smiles as she brushes it away,
noticing that the boy has stopped, cold in his tracks.
He's looking at her.
Their eyes lock.
She sees the hurt.
He sees the love.
She only wants to heal him.
He only wants to love her.
She raises her hand in a form of a wave, the slight motion of it affirming your thoughts.
He just looks back at her.
Her smile falters.
He raises one of his hands away from his pocket where it was firmly clenched before.
He pulls down the hood of the jacket, away from his ink-black hair.
The motion of his hand is now corresponding with the one with hers.
They let their hands drop simultaneously.
She smiles.
He does too.
They both pause, not knowing where to go from here.
She brings new motion to her hand, in the form of a beckon.
His eyes turn wide.
You know what he's thinking.
Me?
She nods in the form of a laugh and an affirmation.
He begins to reform his path, making it lead straight to her.
She recoils from her window sill, the faint footsteps of her bare feet trotting down the steps echoing out into the calm and humid Chicago night.
He knocks at her door.
She opens it with a smile.
They both move their mouths in a form of a greeting.
But now he's moving closer.
She's stepping out the doorway.
Their lips touch softly.
A kiss erupts.
They barely know each other.
Now they know more than any other can ever know.
If you could only believe in love at first sight.
We could grab it for ourselves.
It's true love.