Its late Sunday afternoon and she sits by her window carefully composing her thoughts in her diary…yes, I said diary, that she keeps. It’s not a typical diary but it contains many volumes of thoughts. It could be anything lately and fortunately it’s not a daily entry anymore because the pens would run out of ink and the notebooks were becoming expensive. The sun is beautiful at this time of day as it slowly sets beyond the trees in the distance, sometimes hidden by clouds, other times just hanging out like a shirt that doesn’t want to be tucked in. As the pen continues to write and the lines on the pages slowly become filled with never ending descriptive words she pauses…slowly looks out the window and smiles. If you only could imagine what she just wrote down and only I know, and will know as those pages will come to rest when indeed it is my time. But for now, I write for me and sometimes about you and for you. So now, as I conclude I have carefully composed my vague thoughts once again and exposed to you absolutely nothing but a reflection. Today I was not pissed off by my neighbor or anyone else for that matter…but my thoughts took on a mind of their own and only I know where they went.
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