21:11

She stopped and the soles of their shoes nearly touched each other. “It’s okay, Sir. What if you entertain me as compensation for you prior ill manner?” She gave a small smile that seemed too sweet to be true.

he stood tall despite her self-assured steps. overlooking her height with inches left from his chin and to her head, his features softened with a frown. he glanced at her once, the assumption of youth coming to mind.

"entertainment as compensation?" he murmurs, seemingly amused. the corners of his lips were grimly lifted. "i'm afraid i can only fail you as far as entertaining goes. how about i buy you a snack and call it a day?"

( ... )

he sighs, pressing his lips together, seemingly brought down by fault.

❛ alright. fair enough. it's rather late out at this hour, so i figured if you were troubled, at all. i apologize if my intentions rubbed off in an ill-manner. ❜

( ... )

dip your apples in honey. consume the sweetness, reflect bitterly of how you dwell spiritually.

and this time, you don't pray in a synagogue. on your lips are bells; crying, singing, weeping. you lie small boned, vulnerable underneath the sheath of night. cloaked on your shoulders are the unknown wishes gone as prayers. the pious oils begin to gather at your forehead. the shop you organize each day comes to a close for the next 48 hours.

the devotion of your days is a ghastly contemplation. vague. eerie. the end may swim near or far. distanced by unquiet appease.