I walk to the car and turn back, look at the white and blue house, the old-fashioned carpenteries atop the window. I like this old-fashion house.
I get in the car and close the door. Sitting in, I look into the rear view mirror; the whole street behind me is stationary; in front of me the sun is rising from behind the buildings. All is still quite. And I am leaving the house.
I picture my A, my sunny son, breathing sweetly in his dream, calm, his face is all wide, his long black eyelashes protecting his eyes so nurturingly.
And I am leaving the house.
I think about calling my brother. I propose to me calling Sh.K. She had been thinking about calling me yesterday but thought I was at work, she emailed me instead. Pass. Radio on. Radio off. Take the iPad out, leave it there.
I find that I have been driving for a long time, more than half of my usual morning rides, and I don't remember it all. Auto pilot.
Radio on:
"Take me away, a secret place
A sweet escape, take me away
Take me away to better days
Take me away, a hiding place
There's a place that I go that nobody knows
Where the rivers flow and I call it home
And there's no more lies in the darkness there's light
And nobody cries, there's only butterflies"
2 comments:
چه باحال! داشتم دیروز فکر میکردم که سراغ نوشتهات که میام نظرم رو بنویسم، و دقیقا توی همین متنت اسمم رو آوردی. به این میگن
Telepathy!
That's because Midnight really lives Shab:) boos
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