a short story


Let’s just start at the beginning.

My name is Charlie a normal guy with a boring but well-payed job. My typical day looks like this: waking up at 6 am shower, breakfast, lots of coffee, going to work, finish at 7, eat, taking a30 min walk, watch tv and finally sleep. 

This was my life every single day for 2 years long until the 15th of July 2016.

My best friend gave a party for his birthday in a café. 

I already knew the café because I walked right passed it every day on my 30 min walk. When I walked in, I saw a girl. I was confused cause this never happened to me before.

I was flabbergasted and blown away at that moment I was thinking ‘how could a girl like her with an unbelievable pretty face, wear such ugly boots under a satin dress.

It was a perfect fit for her. She had dark blond hair and gray eyes, she made silly faces and with a cigaret in her hand and big red lips, she dominated all the women at the party that night.

I don’t know why, but with her charm, she had everyone wrapped around her finger.

I had my favorite vintage leather jacket on that she seem to like too.

‘hey,’ she said, ‘do you ride a Harley?’

Honestly, I didn’t know what to say, I didn’t even know it was a Harley jacket.

‘uh I wish’ i said (with a stupid face), ‘do you have your license?I do’ she said with a big smile on her face. I was already falling in love with this girl and I didn’t even know her name yet.

‘me too, I need to buy a Harley soon’ I said quick, I had my license that was true but I wasn’t planning on buying a motor soon. ‘well if you need help with buying one you can call me, I’m Izzy btw’ she said while handing out a napkin with an I on it and her phone number.

‘Thank you! ‘I’m Charlie’ I said, and immediately thought, really thank you, I’m Charlie is the only thing you can say. I bought her a drink and we talked and laughed for hours.

The thing I liked about her is that she had a lot of dreams: Live in Paris, Live in LA, Become the next head off Vogue, Become the next designer of Chanel, Sleep with French men, Sleep with French men but with a lot of money.  I don’t know If I needed to be happy with the last few things she said but I liked her anyway.

Great dreams.

But my dream was just to be with her. 




You guys probably think: how can he want to be with her so much? He doesn’t even know her!

Well it’s not only the way she looks(I can assure you, she looks like a smoking princes on a motorcycle), it’s way she talked, moved, smoked, looked charming and not charming at the same time, the way she did not care what people thought of her, she had her own style and I loved it in every single way.

It was weird how it felt like I’d known her my whole life, it was nice to have someone you can talk to for hours and not have one silent moment.

It was 2 pm when we said goodbye, she kissed me on my lips what I didn’t expect.

She got in a taxi, screamed bisous amour and waved until she couldn’t see me anymore, I couldn’t stop thinking of her but when I opened my front door, I knew I had forgotten something.

HOW COULD I BE THAT STUPID! At that point, I wanted to kill myself.

I left the napkin with her number on the table.