Waiting

My mind is so much like the ocean I watch, calm on the surface with so many deep under currents, all of them with their own purpose. Being me is the perfect job for a daydreamer like I am.

They think I’m a fool to wait like I do every chance I get: eyes set to the horizon, arms resting on the cold window sill. But the way I see it they’re missing the greatest mysteries of life as they chase the mundane and trip over the details of existence. Waiting here gives me time to let my mind escape the boundaries of the ordinary, to think beyond the offerings of modern media. I ponder the threads that bind one person to another and the wounds that separate. I think about the origins of goodness and what “humanity” really is. Waiting here while others do important things is such a gift, a blessing of time. I would give up an eternity of tedium to simply solve a great mystery, to think as the masters of antiquity once did.

There is a kind of waiting that feels like gentle onshore breezes kissing salty stones. It isn’t warm but there is a sense of calm, of nature, of things expected. On any other August evening I would have smiled at the couples filling the cafe sidewalk. I would have seen my future reflected in them, my hand being touched gently by a man who adored me and a shy smile playing on my lips. But not tonight. In this heat I an barely formulate a thought. There is no cooling breeze or cloud to block the high August sun….

image © Margó Wiessman, image originally thought to be a book cover, but in the end I changed my mind 😛

model Andreea Floreanu, Romania.

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