A bedroom interior, decorated by Jonn Villa. I loved the lighting the drapes created, and the creative child like details he applied to such a sophisticated Victorian space.
Also, do you see the Calico kitty?
His steps were firm and brisk and she had to pick up her pace to keep up with him. This in itself was surprising, as most people waited to walk with her, or let her lead the way. Even more disturbing was the fact that He argued with her, and would interrupt her with valid points and interjections. He turned the corner quickly and told her not to smoke another cigarette, as they were almost at his house. She opened her mouth in protest, and then realizing he was right, stifled her spiteful, teenage-esque response. She watched him silently as he unlatched the gate and then shuffled around in his pockets for his keys. I shouldn’t go in, she thought to herself.
Glancing at his dancing eyes and sideways grin she walked up the stairs to his front door.
With a push from his arm, the door opened , revealing a warm, cozy apartment, with a bike by the door. She looked inside, her eyes like scurrying ants, surveying the couches, rugs and appliances of the interior.
“It’s nicer than I thought it was going to be,” she said sarcastically.
However, it really was cleaner and more organized than she assumed his home would be, and he knew her statement was actually blatantly honest. He walked towards the couch and sat down. She followed in suit and sat delicately on the opposite side of the sofa, situating maroon velveteen cushions and pillows beneath her. He glanced at her, and wished to himself that she had sat closer to him. He had met a lot of girls like her, he thought while surveying the profile of her face.
She could feel him staring at her but refused to meet his eyes. “What do you want to do now?” she said, “oh my god, that’s all you could think of to say? You’re a great conversationalist,” she screamed at herself while anxiously waiting for his response.
“I dunno, do you just want to talk, just stay with me until I fall asleep, or sleep here.” He had tried to sound nonchalant, but feared his request would sound like a desperate plea for companionship.
“Ok, yea that’s fine” she said, exhaling loudly and relaxing her body, like a balloon losing helium.
“So, you said your parents were dead?” He asked while adjusting the sleeves of his green collared shirt.
“Yea. Kinda.” She said quietly
“How?” He said with new found interest
“My mom killed herself, I guess.” She said in an even softer voice. She looked back at him and realized that this topic, what she was saying now, was the only thing that really made him look at her the entire night.
“Oh.” He whispered and then put his hand hesitantly on her thigh.
He watched as her head became hidden behind a curtain of black hair. She reminded him of a willow tree perhaps because of the aesthetic similarities he was witnessing or because the word willow tree often has the adjective weeping in front of it. He wanted to touch her hand, maybe even hold it, and tell her something comforting, like “its ok” or “well you turned out great;” but knew she wouldn’t appreciate it.
The silence in the room was becoming increasingly more apparent. “ My roommate owns a bakery down the street.” He said watching the girl’s eyes sprint back out from behind the black entangled branches of hair to greet him at the forest’s opening.
Quail Gardens, San Diego
“Really, that is so cool.” She responded .
He rescued her. The silence was going to kill me, she thought.
“I admire the fact he can make a living by creating things people need, with his hands. It’s honest and feels right."The boy said with his chin raised and his head slightly tilted upwards.
“Yea, me too” The girl said arching her frame.
“I like the fact that you’re honest.” He said.
A few doors away from the living room, was his bedroom.
-ANNA F-S
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