Feel... Felt...
The phone buzzed and the screen lit up
"I miss you. Why are you so quiet?"
I stared at the screen, as if trying to fathom the words ... As if they felt misspelled...
"Been busy. Painting."
*Send
I looked around the cottage, my materialistic world all still packed in boxes... Like a nomad.
The sun had set and another night storm was advancing...
And my skin tingled at the wonderment... At the anticipation of that chaos... And what it would feel like. To just disappear into it.
The phone buzzed again, bringing my mind back for a moment.
"We'll make plans for a coffee date this week. Don't lose hope. Don't retreat either..."
The words, black and stoic on the white background.
As if she knew already.
As if I had confessed a dozen times that I wondered about such things...
The white paint dripped from the paint brush I was holding, onto my foot
Good thing I was barefoot.... No shoes to ruin..
From my blog: athouse9.blogspot.com
Image: Own
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