It was still the blue morning and outside the snow fell light on the air. I stood away from the window, half awake and halfway through the dark living room, staring absently as the dreams and clouds faded. Staring absently as they were replaced with the coming day. Staring absently. In peace.
The snow drifted with the wind above the street, in swirls and waves, and maybe it landed or maybe it flit forever across the town. Over the hills, between the houses, out over the river and then it would be gone. Gone and drifting endlessly away, careless and at peace forever and all that would ever remain; just a memory of a morning. Me, half awake. Halfway through the dark living room and away from the window. Staring absently.
The dreams were gone now. The fog remained. The house was quiet. The neighborhood was quiet. I pushed gently against the images of coming hours creeping in. My desk. Flourescent lights. The void of spreadsheets and chatter and the everpresent and growing ache forever spreading across my lower back. The talking. The character.
Staring absently.
The snow. The blue light of morning.
The still.
Breathing in my moments before I was real. Before the day. Before the noise and patterns and the hum of a world in it's throes, kicking and screaming denial and insistance and hope.
No. Now the moment was gone.
Serena was asleep in my bed. She had asked me to wake her with me. She wanted the morning with me. To speak with me and be near me and she just wanted to be awake and near me, but I couldn't bring myself to wake her just yet. 6:30 is a violent time to be awake.
Slowly I moved into the kitchen. To the coffee that had brewed on its own a half hour before. Poured a mug mostly full and then the rest with cold water. Evened it out. I could drink it quicker and refill it quicker. I could get more coffee in me in the quickly disappearing moments before it all.
Standing at the sink I sipped at the coffee. Closed my eyes and I could have fallen asleep easily. I wanted to. I wanted to set my coffee down. Pour it back into the pot. Throw my robe on the floor and crawl back into bed. Pull the blankets over me, pull Serena close to me, her heat against me. Her skin against my skin. Close my eyes. Close my eyes, smell her hair, and slip away for only a few moments more.
But I didn't.
Another sip. A deep breath. My tongue had been scraping against a broken molar and it stung with each swallow. Another fucking thing.
The dreams and clouds were all gone and I wasn't pouring the coffee back into the pot. A slow breath, and then I walked back to the bedroom. Set my coffee on the milkcrates I used as a nightstand, pulled the blankets back, propped a pillow against the wall, and crawled into bed. Sitting upright against the wall I took my coffee and sipped again and set my hand on Serena's hip. Just to touch her.
It was time.
I ran my fingers up her side, slow and light, and she shifted. First slow, then with purpose.
"Hmm?" she said, opening her eyes and lifting herself up. "Hi." She smiled.
"Good morning."
"Is it time?"
I smiled. "It is."
"Did you get coffee?"
I held my cup up. "I did."
"Mmm. Good," she said and laid back down, rolling over to me, and settling her head against my chest. I laid my arm around her and pulled her tighter to me. "How'd you sleep?" she asked.
"Okay. You?"
"Good. Thank you for waking me up this time."
"I told you I would."
She ran her fingers over my stomach. "I really like waking up with you."
I sipped from my coffee. "It is nice."
The snow drifted and danced above the streets and our warmth between the blankets was the entire world, for just a moment.
I sipped at my coffee and closed my eyes and breathed it all in slow, filling my chest and heart, and today I had been given two moments.
Two moments of beauty. Two moments of peace. Two gifts.
I would get through the day.
No comments:
Post a Comment