When is the time to live?
5:30 pm, tells my wristwatch
Red Persian carpet under my feet. Turquoise velvet chair holds me. Chatter of customers in the café mixed with house music gives permission to my thoughts to slow down. Take a pause.
Take a pause from begging for a miracle. A miracle that allows me to quit my 9-5 and just live for the words. Live for the stories. Live to create.
I look around me.
Stories.
People.
A few scrollers.
Laughter of friends.
Glass plates clinking.
Curly hair. Lush curly hair.
Shimmery dangling silver earrings.
Painting of a ship in the blue ocean screams freedom at me.
I yell (in my head), “Freedom is a state of mind. That’s what my spirit guides told me.”
The sea smirks, “For some, it is no 9-5.”
Ouch. Sea is salty.
Music of a song makes me sway. I Shazam it.
“Remember Summer Days” by Anri.
Yeah Anri, I do remember summer days. Summer days were holy. The days with the words and the evenings with my love.
“Let’s not lose hope”, the Americano cheers me up.
A miracle can still change your life.
A miracle.
I surrender to the air, “Dearest friend, go find me a miracle!”
She flows out the door behind the girl with red hair.
Until next time,
XOXO
Check out Fool’s Council for daily messages from the collective.
This was really lovely!!