karmatic
Notable Member
- Jan 19, 2018
- 13,449
- 50,466
Link back to Story Comp:
https://brokenlens.xyz/forums/threads/story-comp.74119/
Verified Fangirl’s Story
He’s got blonde hair and green eyes, and he loves musicals. Something that makes him smile no matter what is bursting into songs from musicals at random times. He’s also got a love for some Japanese animations yet he can’t speak the language.
He’s got a peculiar taste in music but he’s inventive and creative. He may be a perverted young man but he’s got the cleverness of Albert Einstein. He’s also amazing at Maths, yet his English punctuation is rubbish.
He screeches like a girl when surprised but he’s also playful and loves taking risks. He has a bike which he rides to where the darkest shadows hide, yet his soul is bright and filled with love. However, he dislikes Disney; he’s only ever watched two Disney animations, one of them which he can’t even remember the name of.
One day, we were together, walking through a park. There was a swing set beside a sandbox, and two kids were swinging as high as they possibly could. A slide stood tall and twisting, and covered to protect against rain, next to the swings; you could hear children screaming inside. Monkey bars had little kids hanging from them, as they swung from one bar to the next.
A man in an apron was selling ice cream and popsicles. His cart was shaded by a purple umbrella, from which hung a menu. Thinking of the high probability of dying from heat stroke under the sun, we decided to buy some ice cream from the man.
“You know, it’s barely that hot,” the man had said. We shrugged; it was an excuse to eat ice cream.
We both got vanilla ice cream. There was a bench close by, so we decided to sit down. I don’t know how long we simply sat there, eating our ice cream in silence. It killed me; I had so much to say. Slowly, little bits of ice cream dripped down my hand, as my ice cream began melting. Using my tongue, I licked it up and ate the last bits of my ice cream and the cone. I want more, and I gaze at his ice cream longingly.
“Hey, look,” he says to me. He’s got this British accent that sounds like birds singing and wind chimes, a melody in itself. Once he starts talking to you, it’s hard to let go. It gets stuck in your head, repeating and repeating, over and over, like a broken record.
He points at a tree that’s shading a little girl, who sits on her own, reading a book. She looks so peaceful and serene. Suddenly, he starts belting out lyrics to his favourite song, and I know why. The book’s got the exact same name as the song.
When he sings, it isn’t the most graceful thing, but it’s pretty beautiful. He’s got a million lines of lyrics embedded into his brain, and he could be having a normal day and then, upon seeing something that isn’t even supposed to suggest anything, he’ll start singing, and you can hear the passion in his voice. That’s what makes his singing so pure and wonderful. Best of all, he won’t care who’s listening, which brings out his love and passion even more.
I sing along with him, and the kids who were playing in the playground start staring at us, and I wonder what we look like to them. Are we just odd strangers in a park, or will we be their inspiration to just be themself?
Without noticing, his ice cream has melted, and is starting to drip on the grass we dance on, yet we’re still singing the most random playlist of songs, and I don’t care about the ice cream anymore. It’s just him and I, and we’re making the most loveliest of moments right now; a moment I’ll never forget.
We stop for a minute, just to catch our breath, and in that minute I get the chance to look at him for a moment. And if you want me to be completely honest, he looks absolutely wonderful in that moment right there.
Wonderful.
Then, we’re sitting on the bench and the world is coming back and we realise that we’re in a park and that for the last hour, we’ve just been singing songs nobody will ever recognise at the top of our lungs. This makes me laugh, and he laughs with me, and in this moment, right now, I feel immortal. With him sitting next to me, everything just feels so right.
But as they say, all things must come to an end, mustn’t they? We sit, and we talk, and we laugh, but then, in what felt like only a few seconds, it’s time to go. We walk, hand-in-hand, down the street and across the road, to my house. He gives me a hug, and I return it with a tight squeeze, and even though I never want to let go, I do.
Then, he smiles and walks away.
https://brokenlens.xyz/forums/threads/story-comp.74119/
Verified Fangirl’s Story
He’s got blonde hair and green eyes, and he loves musicals. Something that makes him smile no matter what is bursting into songs from musicals at random times. He’s also got a love for some Japanese animations yet he can’t speak the language.
He’s got a peculiar taste in music but he’s inventive and creative. He may be a perverted young man but he’s got the cleverness of Albert Einstein. He’s also amazing at Maths, yet his English punctuation is rubbish.
He screeches like a girl when surprised but he’s also playful and loves taking risks. He has a bike which he rides to where the darkest shadows hide, yet his soul is bright and filled with love. However, he dislikes Disney; he’s only ever watched two Disney animations, one of them which he can’t even remember the name of.
One day, we were together, walking through a park. There was a swing set beside a sandbox, and two kids were swinging as high as they possibly could. A slide stood tall and twisting, and covered to protect against rain, next to the swings; you could hear children screaming inside. Monkey bars had little kids hanging from them, as they swung from one bar to the next.
A man in an apron was selling ice cream and popsicles. His cart was shaded by a purple umbrella, from which hung a menu. Thinking of the high probability of dying from heat stroke under the sun, we decided to buy some ice cream from the man.
“You know, it’s barely that hot,” the man had said. We shrugged; it was an excuse to eat ice cream.
We both got vanilla ice cream. There was a bench close by, so we decided to sit down. I don’t know how long we simply sat there, eating our ice cream in silence. It killed me; I had so much to say. Slowly, little bits of ice cream dripped down my hand, as my ice cream began melting. Using my tongue, I licked it up and ate the last bits of my ice cream and the cone. I want more, and I gaze at his ice cream longingly.
“Hey, look,” he says to me. He’s got this British accent that sounds like birds singing and wind chimes, a melody in itself. Once he starts talking to you, it’s hard to let go. It gets stuck in your head, repeating and repeating, over and over, like a broken record.
He points at a tree that’s shading a little girl, who sits on her own, reading a book. She looks so peaceful and serene. Suddenly, he starts belting out lyrics to his favourite song, and I know why. The book’s got the exact same name as the song.
When he sings, it isn’t the most graceful thing, but it’s pretty beautiful. He’s got a million lines of lyrics embedded into his brain, and he could be having a normal day and then, upon seeing something that isn’t even supposed to suggest anything, he’ll start singing, and you can hear the passion in his voice. That’s what makes his singing so pure and wonderful. Best of all, he won’t care who’s listening, which brings out his love and passion even more.
I sing along with him, and the kids who were playing in the playground start staring at us, and I wonder what we look like to them. Are we just odd strangers in a park, or will we be their inspiration to just be themself?
Without noticing, his ice cream has melted, and is starting to drip on the grass we dance on, yet we’re still singing the most random playlist of songs, and I don’t care about the ice cream anymore. It’s just him and I, and we’re making the most loveliest of moments right now; a moment I’ll never forget.
We stop for a minute, just to catch our breath, and in that minute I get the chance to look at him for a moment. And if you want me to be completely honest, he looks absolutely wonderful in that moment right there.
Wonderful.
Then, we’re sitting on the bench and the world is coming back and we realise that we’re in a park and that for the last hour, we’ve just been singing songs nobody will ever recognise at the top of our lungs. This makes me laugh, and he laughs with me, and in this moment, right now, I feel immortal. With him sitting next to me, everything just feels so right.
But as they say, all things must come to an end, mustn’t they? We sit, and we talk, and we laugh, but then, in what felt like only a few seconds, it’s time to go. We walk, hand-in-hand, down the street and across the road, to my house. He gives me a hug, and I return it with a tight squeeze, and even though I never want to let go, I do.
Then, he smiles and walks away.