Coffee.

Bitter in after-taste, yet she adored the beverage; in an silence she follows. A cafe will provide her a shelter from natures natural repellent. Gravel clings on her kneecaps, fingers busy brushing at the skin as she stumbles; he anchors the floating ship that she has become in the midst of the sea falling from the sky.

Caramel locks conceal the desolate expression painted over features – the night had wrapped her in a film of melancholia, suffocating but unseen – as she wanders around the streets. Like a ghost. There weren’t many places alive at this time of night ( not that she knew of ) but time was a luxury worth wasting. After all, time is all she has.
Plus, coffee is too hard too turn down. Especially with two lumps of sugar and the deep richness of his company.

15 tracks