Friday
Picture 2
SwedenSara’s Choice: Both
Title:
The floor is cold under the soles of her feet, as she stands quietly, watching the door. It’s closed, safely locked to keep the healthy people out and the unhealthy people in. She’s biding her time, patiently waiting for the right moment, hoping for an unguarded second and a loophole into his world to open. She has her best dress on, like yesterday and all the days before that, just in case an opportunity rises. She wants to look her best when they meet again, not because she’s afraid he will not love her anymore, but because she wants to celebrate their reunion. She knows he’ll be waiting for her, sitting at their meeting point, waiting for her to get off the train and run to him. He’ll have their breakfast ready, Sugar Puffs and a bottle of milk, and they’ll share it with their head closely together, whispering secrets no one else knows, in words no one else understands.
She shifts her feet as someone approaches the door, tensing her muscles, preparing for flight. Pretending to intensely examine the paint on the wall, she waits for a crack in the security, a weak moment in the ever present watchfulness.
An unguarded moment.
A door closing too slowly.
Bare feet silently running towards freedom.
A white dress flitting in a chink of a door.
Bright sun on a face.
Fresh air in a pair of lungs.
Last call for the 10:15 train to Poughkeepsie.
.
.
.
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Milk and Sugar Puffs, whispered secrets, and a pure and patient love.
1 comments:
This one I had to read twice. At first I wondered if she were in her mind. Then I went back and she is on the train?
I love how you used the two pictures. It seems like they wouldn't go together at all but you found a way to make them interact and criss cross. I love how your mind works.
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