Walky-talky

Hrvoje Bielen
Green Typewriter
Published in
2 min readMay 24, 2015

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by Hrvoje Bielen

I was walking the streets as I always did this time of year. Night was sweet and air was refreshing. There were not many others walking the same night track, but there were few. Brief His and Evenings uttered under breath were only sounds beside stomps and lighting matches that broke mathematical rhythm of night life in nearby trees.

I came along a couple of prostitutes under thick branches of poplar trees. Lifting their legs they try to lure passing cars and their curious drivers. When I think about it the sight was funny. Hilarious. I smirked privately and puffed my rolled cigarette. Bought a pipe few years ago, but I noticed that after thirty five minutes of puffing it up I rolled a cigarette just to intake something. Gave up pipe pretty soon. Not my thing.

Passing those girls ended up with question about my time and would I like to make it sweet in someones company. I smiled and politely thanked ladies for the offer, but I’m sorry, that just isn’t my thing. Never was. What? Yes, I’m sure. OK, I’ll let you know. No, I’m just walking my bit. Yes, I’m going toward center square. Sure, come along. No, I’m married. Yes, ha ha. Two. Boy and a girl. Four and seven. Yes, first year of elementary. She’s happy. Designer. No, no. Websites, mobile apps and similar. Yes, I like it. It’s fun. You’re right, money is good. Can’t complain really. And you? Why do you do this? Law? Really? And how many exams left? That’s not much.

And so we walked and talked as facades passed us by. She’s a decent girl trying to full fill her dreams and fight with life expectations. Oh, you live here. Well, now I see why you need that extra money. Ha ha. Well, good night, and I hope you get your law degree soon.

I forgot her name.

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