Another day

The light was flickering through the bus windows onto the pages of my book and making it difficult to read. I looked up and realized we were entering the tunnel of trees that I love to ride through. I watched the woods thin to riverside and wanted to be in a canoe in the little backwater nook that runs by the road.

A beetle flew down the aisle and landed on the woman's backside fat roll as she leaned over to talk to her child. When she straightened up it launched the beetle back into flight. How many unnoticed instances have I undergone?

I walked behind you as you ran for the bus and remembered you from an age ago. When we kissed under the trees and you hated me for being unfeeling and for giving the ring away so I wouldn’t be tied to it. Actually, I was too full of too many feelings to give everything to you.
I wondered who was walking behind me.

I stopped for a Kosmoburger and it was everything I wanted it to be. It was exactly what it should have been. What more can one ask for?

I walked under Frannie’s japanese maple and had to stop and stare into it to try, albeit unsuccessfully, to fully understand every shade of red and orange in sunlight that ever was or will be.

I sat behind you while you worked and startled you when I appeared like an apparition. You said you stood under that maple too.

I keep sensing a layer of film lifted off. Like my disconnection had occluded my vision. Maybe I was so involved in my inner world that an external world was chimerical and muted.

I think there’s room for both.