Somebody Else

The room filled with people chatting away. Mostly white walls covered with paintings and pictures spaced apart to make them look more stand out. Perhaps this was the main reason why an art piece looks better in a gallery than it would on your house wall. Marketing.

There she was with a champagne glass in one hand nodding to the nonsense that the guy in front of her was talking about. French art perhaps. Maybe too stereotypical of a black t-shirt wearing guy with a beret. Marketing.

All I can think about was how her hair swerves flawlessly while nodding. It has been 4 years and I have seen that long soft hair grown itself from a bob. I gave a tap on her shoulder just to notify that I was there. She turned around showing me her beautiful light green eyes that when people talk about going green, this is what they meant. Her face gave an expression of confusion and of shock. Not in the good way.

Carmen: What are doing here?
Allen: For you.
Carmen: What?

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Carmen: You're not suppose to be here! (after review by ieraLEE...haha)
Allen: What do you mean? I'm here for you and this is the response.
French Dude: Who's this?
Carmen: This is Allen whose not suppose to be here.
French Dude: Oui.

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She took me by the hand and dragged me away from the french dude who was twirling his mustache that he seemed to have grown during their conversation.

Carmen: Look, your not suppose to be here. Go back home.
Allen: Why? I'm here.
Carmen: Because its not your time.
Allen: What? What do you mean.
Carmen: Its just not your time yet. Go back home Allen. People are waiting for you back home.
Allen: Who? What people? What are you talking about?

.......................................................

Sounds of rubber souls on white marble flooring like players changing directions on a basketball court.

White uniformed guy: Clear!