So, she bled as she past by him. Had he waited a bit more, had she not come up to him first, had she not wanted to, had he not held out on false promises, over, it would have been, easily.
Now, she sticks like she shouldn't. It gets difficult explaining. In the corridor, over the phone, a never ending drove of talk, he has had enough.
Next night, she has left for home and he is not so sure if she would be required anymore.
Life can become monotonous, expression never can. Cities can change, and people may never revert hence, but what one writes always stays the same. This is as boring a blog as you may ever read, as irritating as any writing may ever get, and you are obviously as stupid as they ever came.
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