They took the same way when they went home after rendering post shift over time for four hours. Both felt wasted from over working. Although, in reality, they did not do anything for the entire four hours other than waiting for their shift to end. They were silent while walking side by side on the sidewalk. Only the sound of the passing cars kept the awkwardness of their silence from being noticed.
When are you leaving?, John asked.
On the 7th, he replied.
They went on walking.
Why are you leaving anyway?
Because of you, he joked.
This is all your fault. Then he smiled when he saw John smiled.
Then they were silent again for a few minutes.
Is it?, John asked when they were about to part ways. John will have to cross the street to get a cab home.
I'm sorry?
Is it? Is it really my fault?
He just smiled and hailed a taxi.
Don't be late tomorrow, he said and went inside the cab.
The taxi went off. He looked back and saw John still standing on the same spot where he left him. John's image was vague from a distance, but he was certain that the man standing on that very spot is the man he fell in love to.
in·con·sis·ten·cy (ĭn'kən-sĭs'tən-sē)
n., pl. -cies.
1. The state or quality of being inconsistent.
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the inconsistent
About Me
- Jonathan
- I am a writer even if I'm not. And I am a rockstar, too.
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