Power

I like evening thunderstorms after a hot day. I like them even more now that I live on a thirteenth floor, because I can see the city skyline and the open grey view, split in half sometimes, by a lightning bolt. I like the feeling of power in the air, and I like to read in my bed and catch the light with the corner of my eye. I like the wind and the ever shifting view.

Sometimes I feel like I'm waiting for disaster to strike. Like I'm cringing and always on the edge of despair, bracing myself for the inevitable blow. But sometimes days are like this, so good that I feel as if I am waiting for nothing more than time and that I shall never have to feel like this again. I shall never have to be careful of my thoughts. I shall never have to examine every new notion with trepidation over what terrible things it might bring up.

Sometimes someone makes me forget even that. We talk about everything and nothing and I forget even to be hopeful. Those days are better.

I've just made myself dinner. I've got work to do, but nothing pressing, nothing desperate, just pleasant fun work that might keep me occupied. I'm reading a good book.

Still, I miss your presence here and wish for the sound of your key in the door. The sound of your whistling outside. The chance to enjoy this quiet and work with you.