Theatrical Muse #316. Ten Years Ago
The turn of the century and even in London it was cold, but not too cold. There were fireworks going off.
The turn of the millennium is something to celebrate with lights and building things, victory parades in the streets, and walking down cobblestones and paved roads that were new before her country was coveted or conceived of.
The boy standing beside her tries so hard to be his. Pleads and begs, buys her dresses and pretty black clothes but it's only a passing fancy. He's only a passing fancy. He's everything she ever dreamed of, blond hair and blue eyes, pretty voice and pretty words and just a little bit dangerous. She'll see the danger before the year is out and drop him by the street like the garbage he is and the only thing she'll miss is the city.
She's smarter than that. He knows. He's watched her for so long. And she's so close, now. She's less than a mile away.
But it's the turn of the century, the decade, and the millennium, and even though she's so close her eyes aren't on him, they're on the fireworks going off above her head. The gray-tan buildings standing tall in the sky, narrow and leaning. Tomorrow she'll go into the city and they'll see places. Older places. And she'll laugh and smile and be enchanted.
He's watched her for so long. He can be a little more patient.
Won't be long now.
The turn of the millennium is something to celebrate with lights and building things, victory parades in the streets, and walking down cobblestones and paved roads that were new before her country was coveted or conceived of.
The boy standing beside her tries so hard to be his. Pleads and begs, buys her dresses and pretty black clothes but it's only a passing fancy. He's only a passing fancy. He's everything she ever dreamed of, blond hair and blue eyes, pretty voice and pretty words and just a little bit dangerous. She'll see the danger before the year is out and drop him by the street like the garbage he is and the only thing she'll miss is the city.
She's smarter than that. He knows. He's watched her for so long. And she's so close, now. She's less than a mile away.
But it's the turn of the century, the decade, and the millennium, and even though she's so close her eyes aren't on him, they're on the fireworks going off above her head. The gray-tan buildings standing tall in the sky, narrow and leaning. Tomorrow she'll go into the city and they'll see places. Older places. And she'll laugh and smile and be enchanted.
He's watched her for so long. He can be a little more patient.
Won't be long now.