ジョシュ・ブローリンのインスタグラム(joshbrolin) - 7月13日 16時50分

When I come to see her it's hard to even knock on the door. I'm nervous. A little. I hear Jazz inside, maybe even on a record player with that slightly tinny tone to it. Miles Davis? Chet Baker. It's slow and I hear his voice come in: Valentine something. We were supposed to go out earlier but she called and said she wasn't feeling well. Her Mother called me actually. We've only had two dates. I've taken her out two times. Maybe the Jazz is er Dad's. Maybe her dad is home. I don't want to deal with the dad; I just want to see her. Maybe I can get her something: aspirin, bubbly water, maybe a walk would help. I love looking at her. She doesn't seem to mind looking at me. I knock on the door. The music fades away, and I wait for footsteps, but none come. I wait but it's all silence now. I look around. Nothing. I look above to the second story windows and there she is, against the closed middle window, waving slightly her hand, then she disappears. It's sunset now. I start to write a note.
Photo: @raycollinsphoto

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