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His Green Vinyl chair where Paris never goes

He always sits on the green vinyl chair. His fingers tap on the table and caress a smoke as he wonders at the daily crossword.
Sometimes he’ll glace up at me, sitting on his orange, polka dot chair and smile. Sometimes I raise my eyebrows at him, but mostly I do nothing. Just continue to stair into the coffee, in some vague hope it will answer all my questions.
We both know he stopped coming to my house because I wouldn’t let him smoke inside.
We both know I will never move in with him because he smokes inside.
He takes another drag and scribbles something into a box. A letter I presume.
As he does this, I can’t help but wonder; why am I sitting here? We do nothing. We see nothing. We go nowhere. Nothing changes.
He glances at me, and for the first time in a long time, I smile.
“Tell me.” I ask him, still smiling, still holding his gaze, “what’s Paris like this time of year?”
His eyes are going to burn holes into my head. I can see his cheeks burning, ever so slightly in anger.
When we first met, when this all began. I was going to travel. See the world. Live.
Then we fell in love, or something like that. And he controlled everything.
“Wouldn’t have a clue. Cold I’d say.” He narrows his eyes, “why?”
I just smile as I put my coffee cup on the sink.
“No reason. Just thought if you didn’t know, I’d have to find out for myself.” I kiss his cheek gently, “I’ll be back in a few years sweetheart. Don’t stay up. Oh, and for the record, Paris is meant to be nice this time of year.”

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His Green Vinyl chair where Paris never goes by 


live, paris, vinyl, smoke, chair

I love many things. Including the contradictions I sometimes contain.
I’m a little too obsessive over the colour red. I love traveling and have permanent wanderlust. I drink too much peppermint tea and sometimes sing the blues to my dog. I obsessively carry around notepads when I’ve got writers block and have been telling my family since I was eight that I will be a writer one day.
I love looking up at the moon at night and the smell of the beach in winter.

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  • Misunderstood24
    Misunderstood24over 4 years ago

    I like it.
    Lots of emotion.
    Good work.
    love and hugs

  • :D thank you hun
    love and hugs

    – Emraldae

  • bellmusker
    bellmuskerover 4 years ago

    “No reason. Just thought if you didn’t know, I’d have to find out for myself.”
    Yes! This made me smile and smile…I hope she got on that plane and felt the Parisian sun on her upturned face.

    And by the way babe, this is also the photo I chose for my piece for the writers’ meeting, hehe. Isn’t it stunning? :-)

  • She most defiantly will, and maybe the sun of a few other places too.
    there is something really inspiring about it, isent there? :) those chairs just beg to have their story told.
    I hope you have a wonderful time tomorrow, i wish i could be out there, sitting in that garden with you all.
    perhaps next time.

    – Emraldae

  • galaticos
    galaticosabout 4 years ago

    My Dear, Bon voyage and don’t look back

  • Ah that is the plan just as soon as i’ve finished achieving all the dreams here that (i hope) will make my travels more fulfilling.

    – Emraldae

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