No one had seen Paloma since last week.
Mr. Campbell wanted to put up a help wanted ad in the Times.
I wasn't too worried, because P was recovering.
At least, that is what she told me.
The CEO had asked,
"Evan, who knows? Maybe you can work here full-time
instead of volunteering."
It would've been a dream, but I wouldn't step over P.
I'll think about it, sir.
I walked around, sweeping any thing in my way,
until I saw her once again.
Like before, she was glaring at me
with that million dollar grin.
Coincidentally, she stood next to The White Flag
so I decided to surrender to her games.
I pushed the broom aside, walked over,
and introduced my name.
![](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/42397783-288-k908804.jpg)
YOU ARE READING
Aesthetic
Short StoryEvan is not sure if its the art or her that takes his breath away. Highest Rank: #135 in Poetry; #604 in Short Story