The future delusional in three drafts
by Christos Polydorou
Working title: The Year Of First Magical Weddings
One day I’ll look up and I’ll see you. You would’ve seen me first, but you’ll never tell me. I would’ve planned our wedding before you would’ve offered to buy me a drink. I’ll then devour you.
And we’ll live happily ever after.
Working title: If in summer, a set of trees
You’ll be wearing green
overalls, like you just came in from a royal park, where you spent the day trimming the harsh bits off an elm or an oak, and I will notice the leaves and scraps of twigs all over your uniform, and not believe my luck. I spend my days with trees, but my nights are free, you might say, and I will feel like I am prettier than Ryan Gosling. We will alight the bus we found each other on together, and there will begin our love story, brief, complete, uncomfortable, boring, and finally over. It must have been love, we will both think
looking back at us, but it’s over now. It’s better to have loved and lost, even if it means you have to be a tree whilst you get over it.
The taller the better.