Monday, August 06, 2007


Quietly, the phone is placed on the darkly stained pinewood desk.

There's a sudden calm in the air, even as her hands shake with the tremors within.

A silent acceptance of the turn of events. Of her doing. Of another large reservoir of 'what ifs' to carry around for her lifetime. Of helplessness.
A quick glance to the dull gold book cover etched with a peaceful face holdng up a flute.

And somewhere the music doesn't play but the words stream in as easily as the light through the glass windows.

" We were meant to live for so much more. Have we lost ourselves?"

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