A Midnight Prodigy


2 am.

The only thing visible in the room, was her face. Glowing in the screen light of her laptop. Sitting stock-still, holding her breath, probably reading something. Squeezing her eyes after every couple of seconds to avoid blurriness her tears were creating. Scrolling up and down reading with weary, yet insomniac eyes. Reading each and every word. Feeling every single feeling.

3:30 am

She closed the lid, and moved to the bed with trembling legs. Burdened by her own agitation. Fatigued heart with unknown fears, and numb mind with the clump of thoughts.“What if every word he ever wrote was for me? What if I was the one he thinks about when writing?”  The night, like every other night of the past 2 years, was hard to breathe. With all heavy eyelids, lying in the bed, thinking of how she was losing him with ever passing breath.

As soon as the sight blurred, she felt something. A touch on her waist…

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