The asphalt of Shoreditch was burning, and the smell of beer and cigarettes was filling my nose as another never-ending summernight was beginning again. A plane flew over the sky and left a sharp line.
” I always wonder where people are going. I want to go somewhere too. Miami!” said the Italian whilst dancing on the street.
” I always wonder who is coming in.” I said.
( I felt this burning kind of jealousy. The kind I had only heard about …. my cheeks burned. It was French jalousie. I turned all red. I was burning. Now I knew what she had spoken of.) A few years ago a friend of mine, who I at that time was caught in some odd love triangle with, asked me if I had ever felt this way. She was bright red, even her hair seemed red, whilst she did the dishes and had been sending mean looks towards her old lover. I told her no, and started to help her with the dishes. I had never felt the same. She said I was a very odd person. Then she took me into her room, closed the door and offered me a blue dress to wear for a wedding.