"Life's Alleyway" he called it. Full of all the refuse that New York could cram in. Full of the discards of busy lives--items once cherised and displayed, but thrown away when time dictated their rust and decay.
Yet, this is where he would look with anticipation from his apartment window. At 6 AM sharp each day, that dark alleyway winding between the old brick buildings would brighten as it gently carried the footsteps of a young lady on her way to work at the cafe'. Her short red hair would shine ablazed in the awakening sun.
So full of beauty was she, like one of those girls you see in a magazine of a far away place, with beautiful eyes and hair blowing in the wind. A girl with no name but his to give.
He called her Wendy for he had known a Wendy once in times more innocent. A girl so full of life and a smile that captured his heart.
And so today's Wendy would now come. She would still be straightening her hair and with one final stroke across her rubied lips, would apply the last bit of lipstick. Did her final touches mean that she lived just around the corner or was it to undo the effects of a long walk?
Dandy chose to think of her as living so very close.
Perhaps when he dreamt of her he dreamt of the Wendy of old.
And that one night he dreamt. She was passed through the alleyway as she had each day these last three years. And then he noticed the name tag on her uniform. What was her name? Was it Wendy? He could not make it out until the very last second.
"Burger King Manager" it read.
He woke up craving a Whopper.
contact Byron Siemsen at email@example.com