Intersecting Loneliness [The Confessor]

"Intersecting Loneliness"

He was a professional confessor. His job was to confess love on behalf of someone else.

"As a professional confessor, no one ever confesses to me. It's lonely. I think it's a luxury to see the person being confessed to look confused. You're being liked, and I was just hired. Be happy about it."

She furrowed her brows at the words he muttered.

His childhood friend stared at him intently.

"You know," she said, sounding exasperated. "You really are too dense."

Her voice was raspy.

"I've liked you for so long. I've been dragging this first love around forever; I'm such a fool, aren't I? Go ahead, laugh."

With his eyes wide open, he couldn't move. He couldn't call out to her, nor could he reach out his hand.

She took a breath, then glared at him with teary eyes.

"Look at you, you're confused yourself, aren't you?"

Having said that, she turned on her heel. The sound of her small footsteps echoed on the asphalt. He stood rooted to the spot, able only to watch her back as she walked away.

He remained motionless for a long time, his eyes cast downward. A small sigh fell onto his long, stretched-out shadow.

(410 characters)