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CAFUNÉ ǁ Part 3

 The cab slowed down and parked at the entrance of a huge building with ‘ HQ ’ written in bold on top. I was one of those office-like buildings that had glass covering most of it. I frowned as I tried to sort out all the questions flowing in my mind.  Once the cab stopped I looked at Harry as if asking him approval to exit the cab. He got out of his seat and ran around the cab in order to open my door for me. Okay so he’s mysterious, drives a smelly cab, but he’s a gentleman. I never quite noticed what he was wearing until right now since he was sitting in the driver’s seat. He had quite a weird sense of fashion. He has extremely skinny black jeans on with a cheetah shirt with the first 3 buttons open -I could tell he wore it a lot since it was a bit worn out. He also had these peculiar golden boots that I could probably see miles away and he held a dark blue coat in his hand that he just took off.  I sighed as I went out not knowing what awaits me. I even considered running
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CAFUNÉ ǁ Part 2

 If you still haven’t noticed that every single thing I’ve brought along was black; you’re welcome and just for the fun of it I’d like to point out the reason why. Black is always seen as a dull and sad colour; black is the absorption of all colour and the absence of light. Black hides, while white brings to light. What black covers, white uncovers. It always means negativity and depression yet in my eyes black has a whole other meaning.  Bright colours are so empty, black is poetic. How do you imagine a poet? In a bright yellow jacket? Probably not. It’s modest and arrogant at the same time. Most importantly: It never goes out of style. I slowly made my way to the edge of the pavement which had most of the yellow and black colours faded off it. I started pacing back and forth and hugging myself as I waited for a cab to pass by. As I squinted my eyes into the far horizon of the road to see a small yellow car appear. My heart filled with joy since I won’t be freezing to death an
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CAFUNÉ ǁ Part 1

Hello there. You might be wondering who I am and what my story is at the moment. The name’s Salameh, Layla Salameh. As for my story that’s for me to know and you to find out as you go on reading. I’m that kind of person who’s quite consumed by wanderlust . It’s the strong desire to travel if you were wondering, or at least I think it is depending on Google of course. Anyways, I’m now known to be quite the hero of hair ; and yes it isn’t a typo, I did mean ‘hair’. I’m about to tell you how. ↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝  “Yes Mom...no I don’t need you to mail me peaches, who does that?” “Yes I know you love me but what do peaches have to do with that?” “Alrigh-Oh Mom the planes landing I’ll call you later . ” “Yes I’ll go to the bathroom when I arrive. Love you!”  I rolled my eyes as I turned off my phone as quick as possible since the cocky airline hostess had her eyebrows knitted in an Arabic 8 shape as she grew frustrated at the amount of times I’ve
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Haunted By My Thoughts

 They say silence is gold. If that’s the case then I must be the richest person on earth, well technically I am - not exactly the richest though. I took in a long breath as I closed my eyes. I felt my lungs being overflowed with air and feeling the tension drain from my body as I exhaled. I love being alone but loneliness and being alone are very different from each other.  As much as my brain was telling me to scream and my heart was telling me to cry; my conscience told me to smile; so I did. Sure I had no one to share it with but I couldn’t help being the only person on earth with a beating heart. I wish I could tell you an eventful and exciting story about a zombie apocalypse or a fatal disease that wiped out the earth’s population but unfortunately I can’t since I have no idea what actually happened.  On the 9 th of June, Year 4145; I woke up like I did on the 8 th and the 7 th and all the previous days, except I couldn’t find anyone. It was like God was hosting a ma
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