Stairs. More stairs than I’ve ever climbed in my short life. I’m climbing up the stairs of the tallest building. Somewhere at the top I believe is the boy I’ve been following and possibly an answer to the question of what happened here.
I’m hopeful that if I find this cute boy that he will be able and willing to show me how to return home.
I wonder if I truly want to return home as the fantasy of remaining here as his lover fills me. A warmth passes through me though I’m uncertain if that’s a rush of emotions at the thought of being taken to bed by him or the pure exhaustion I’ve been experiencing.
Whatever happens next I’m uncertain about everything and anything I might find here in this strange world.
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Categories: Fiction poetry short story writing
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