there’s an abandoned house with a mango tree down the street. On hot days the neighborhood smells like over ripe mangoes.

some people make eye contact and it’s whatever

other people, it doesn’t matter what they look like, they make eye contact and there’s this real, almost tangible charge strike. heart skips a beat, catches me off guard every time. practiced visage completely abandoned.

totally disarmed.

i think that’s so cool

always an underlying mystery to things.

i want to go find out the answers to those mysteries.

post script

painting a face, she starts talking to me

i decide to give her some crows feet, she says “why have you subjected me to age?” i tell her she’s beautiful and that as a painting she’s immortal so aging can’t affect her. She’s not satisfied by that,she starts to complain she says “in that case why not just make me beautiful and young forever?” she’s upset about the size of her nose. she’s upset about being painted in the first place. i start to get uncomfortable. she says “now you’re just going to delete me.

i hesitate

the way i painted the eyes have them looking directly at me

i decide the merciful thing to do would be to delete her after all.

before i do she lets me know it was cruel to bring her to into existence only to erase her.

i’m sorry.

delete.