There is a distant almost ethereal feeling that overwhelms me. Midnight moons, street corner lamp posts and stray dogs searching for food, searching for a best friend.
An older man sits in his kitchen, staring into his coffee and occasionally twirling his spoon. He is thinking about the clock that must have fallen the night before. When there was a full moon and a cool wind was blowing. The earth shook, the clouds raced by and the moon snuck away ceding to the sunrise.
A clock on the floor, empty cup of coffee and thoughts of ascension. A strange sound from the back of the house reminds me that its getting late for me.
A slamming door, a ringing bell and the sounds of sirens in the distance.
A strand of hair, on my shoulder from another time and place.
She was something special, but it wasn’t meant to last for too long – she used to count the stars on winter nights wearing just her night gown. Bare feet on the grass and fingers pointing to Alpha Centauri, Sirius and Antares among the stars, the star systems and constellations. She had the best intentions and the best eyes I have ever seen through. When she left it was also with her best intention – a kiss and a hug with tears in her eyes she said, “Thank you.”
I take a sip from my coffee and notice it’s running low – the spoon is out of the cup now, at rest. The clock is back on the wall and it’s a panging reminder that it’s late – out of time, out of coffee…time to move on…
Are we bringing him back to continue his thoughts ?