- Sunday 2025-08-31
- Writing - vignettes
- Previous - 07. Travel day
From despair to not-despair and back again. The clouds roll back for a moment, morning sun on your face, drink it deeply, don’t let it pass unthanked.
Mystifying kindness, a shock, a second-guessing. You don’t really like me, do you? Do you?
You do?
To bond deeply in two days is an oxymoron; stop expecting it. Wishing, wanting to skip past the slow part, the halting part. Can’t we get there now? Small moments and easy words are a waste, a mockery, a burning of fuel in a pointless machine. And yet, and yet, likely not. Likely that the small moments compound and combine and can not be removed. Grease for the wheels, so to speak; good luck lifting heavy with an un-greased machine.
It’s stunning here. And yet. Not enough time, my feeling on the first day, almost upon arrival. A noticing that this is not eternal, just a short while longer and gone, this group of possible deep friends will scatter, a murmuration of starlings (the technical term) no longer.
The trick of course then is to build your own flock.
I want to go on a road trip, just me and you. I want to pause time and spend it together. I don’t want to wait to catch you in the hall, to chance across you by luck and good fortune. Must create my own luck. Let’s spend some time.
- Next - 09. Hill