she said,
“i’m losing my ‘cool’. i’m losing my touch. i had it down to an art. it was so perfect it was as if cool was mine, like i invented cool. ‘cool’ became the red in my blood.

now my cool’s nonchalant blue is fading and the toffee brown underneath is turning all soft. i need it to be as vibrant as ever and colour me blue, because this new soft toffee brown isn’t doing it.”

she sighed.

“i heard the four walls talking the other day and one said, i think she’s falling for him and she doesn’t even know it. i know they were talking about me. even the four walls can see that i’m losing my cool.

cool used to be my keeper, keeping me out of trouble and keeping me from getting involved. now cool’s become unreliable and only shows up on every occasion other than the one i need cool most. and now without cool in my bloodstream i feel my cheeks turning red hot. you don’t understand, i used to be so cool.”

maybe i caught a cold from the ice cold cool running through my stream. and now i’m all hot and bothered because i’m feverish – sweating and melting away that carefree exterior..”

she paused and you could see the cogwheels turning in her mind.

“i know,” she smiles. “i’ll just pretend that cool is still running through my veins, and maybe if i wear a little more blue maybe i can still be cool. yeah, i can still be cool.”



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