I looked around hurriedly.
My desk was blank. Under the bed
was one pen, no paper. On
the table was the book I was
reading.
"Alright, what is it?"
I opened the front cover
wrote ten numbers on
the title page.
A few days later
after I'd pleasantly made the call
I finished my book.
It wasn't very good.
A few notable passages
but for the most part dull, contrived.
I flipped back to the title page.
Under her name there were ten digits.
I later transcribed them into a better book
in the off chance that we get
accidentally married.
Something to show her someday.
Share on Facebook
Tweet about this Piece