sanna-liisa

It's the perfect place for something to happen. I've been waiting here for the last two weeks, every day over lunch hour. Nothing's happened yet, but something will; something will.

And in the meantime, it's a perfect sort of place for waiting. People walk by, tripping their eyes over my boots and sometimes they're the right sort of people to catch a secret laugh with. People are the salt of the earth; people are the light of the world. I'm more glad than I know how to say that I live with people and that people live with me. Just watching them pass makes me eight years old again. I'm holding hands, walking past the arcade. I'm sharpening my pencil; I'm tagging after you. I'm on the swings; I'm buying candy; I'm sleeping over; I'm learning cursive; I'm taking turns. I'm playing that I'm eighteen and there's nothing wrong with the world. It doesn't really come better than this.