Tiffany Blue

Miami nights, estival air. Sweet on the tongue—that, is youth everlasting.

I have long painted over the skies that coloured my early twenties, a world so red I had nearly collapsed from the lack of sanity. Yet, as the seasons recycle, so do the plot lines of every other conversation.

In grey and blue I read the screen, words that belong to memories I had discarded in a Tiffany blue box; shut away in the reservoir of my mind. There, in the shadows between the lines, I understood. She needs to be saved, but I am no heroine. For I had forgotten, yet she screams on the inside. That is when I close the door. I suppose we all have our demons, my only one these days is the road to New York.

My world thrives off of my wildest daydreams—a penthouse suite in Midtown, a midnight silver Tesla, and a bestselling memoir. And to her dismay, none of them involve hazy recollections of a bygone goodbye story.

Location: South Beach, Miami

Come follow my travels at allyinrain.

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