waltz
It is the littlest things that come together to make a brilliant visual reel of the day. Window panes thick with rain, buildings shrouded from view, and curiously removed from the hullabaloo on carpet. Trudging through the slick streets, peeping up from below the umbrella to see grey skies washed clear. Swashing hair with a colleague who came to visit from another floor. Leaves bathed in light from the setting sun, a band of gold that sparkled in between soft edges and shades of midori, a river as the train whipped past. Feigning sleep, but instead peeking at the pictures an auntie was loudly showing her friend of her child (no scrolling past selfies at awkward clumsy moments!), and the pride on her face, incandescent, like the joyful beam all mothers possess; it is the most giving thing. The air from a breathing garden, slightly damp with soil, and fading blue crisscrossed with cloud wisps. Listening to a forgotten favourite while racing through the night, windows drawn, and wind puffing at hair. It has been more than a week into the new year, and I have already gotten used to typing 2015 in emails. We don't have the patience for time; it is the other way around. But 2014, you were a marvelous year; I felt it since the beginning but was always to afraid to say aloud, worried that the weight of grateful words would sink the unformed months later. I haven't done 2014 enough justice, haven't shaken the juices out of memories yet. Soon, soon. For now, an imaginary waltz in the heart of Paris will suffice. Oh, Gene Kelly~ And Gerschwin! "It's very clear/ Our love is here to stay / Not for a year, but forever and a day"
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