The frizzy blond haired giant jiggles against my chair, his presence impinging into my space despite a couple of shuffles in the opposite direction to ward it off. I do not like people around me like this. When I’m in the mood for solitude as I read my book, write my letter, inhale the fragrance of my tea, smile at the green vista, interrupted by colourful roofs in front of me. Yet, even in solitude, to be able to share the things that make you smile, is to double the pleasure it affords you. The sun valiantly struggles to pierce through the clouds, filtering through the leaves that dance in the lilting breeze. The light catching the purity and innocence of the fresh green of a new leaf, fluttering, playing with the darker, knowing shade of green. A perfect moment that makes you still, a smile teasing the corners of your mouth, and it makes me wish I could paint it, wanting to capture the magic so I can carry it with me when I leave, a memory to hoard in my Pandora’s box when I’m in Singapore. The moment continues, but I know there is only here and now. No past. No future. I breathe it in deeply, tasting it, loving it, living it. The joy unsullied, but I would have liked to have shared this perfect moment with someone. A shared smile, a shared appreciation. That’s the thing with perfect moments and life.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment