I hope to one day find a girl named Attention. I would take her in as a friend and have her tell me every story that she knows. She'd go into such beautiful detail that my belly would swell upon hearing of her Thanksgiving dinners. My eyes would well up upon hearing of love lost and my heart would creek like One-eyed Willie's reborn ship when she proclaimed that she'd someday find it again.
Attention's favorite stories of her childhood would put wind through my hair and would tickle my nose until I sneezed with her explanations of warm, sun-0soaked days in the spring. I'd grow nauseous and nervous as she spread details about the first days of school and the first time she got caught shoplifting. Her stories would breathe something so fantastic, so utterly spell-binding I'd revert back to a small boy and beg for more the way I used to beg for Nintendo. Soon after though, Attention would leave, and I'd miss her stories.
Attention's favorite stories of her childhood would put wind through my hair and would tickle my nose until I sneezed with her explanations of warm, sun-0soaked days in the spring. I'd grow nauseous and nervous as she spread details about the first days of school and the first time she got caught shoplifting. Her stories would breathe something so fantastic, so utterly spell-binding I'd revert back to a small boy and beg for more the way I used to beg for Nintendo. Soon after though, Attention would leave, and I'd miss her stories.