the ghost of corperate future.

i can remember the day i before i bought my new phone and it rained and i saw you.

your anorak (i remember thinking, an anorak, that's beautiful) slicked with rain, your hair stubbornly plastered to your damp forehead and driplets running off your smiling face.

of course you were there, of course it was you, of course it was lovely and of course i felt sick. why would you say anything about the weather? why? wouldn't that be an utterly fruitless exercise? haha, of course it would. it made no difference to you, and you didn't even mention it. that's amazing. it could have been boiling hot sun, but no, you stood there dripping wet in your beautiful anorak with your beautiful smile and said nothing.

and you squinted at me as i talked too quickly, asking questions with my hands instead of my mouth and becoming increasingly aware of my cold damp clothes. my incongruous denim shorts (i thought it would be sunny) and my t-shirt and you didn't bat an eyelid. "no," you said, when i asked you a question that had been on my mind all day. and i just replied with, "oh," and i can't pretend to feel a certain way. i was obviously dissapointed. and you obviously didn't notice. i suppose we both need to work on our people skills.

and now the phone i got the next day has broken.

and it's been raining an awful lot, hasnt it.

and you're gone.