Chances are...

The cool southerly wind came up suddenly, stirring the dust and tumbling old newspapers down the empty street. A cat warbled in the distance and the only street light flickered and buzzed. The early morning light painted the sky in shades of pink broken by grey clouds scattering across the sky. The glow of a cigarette flared and a cloud of smoke billowed and disappeared. The lingering smell of tobacco a welcome distraction from the usual stench of the place. The stillness and quiet felt warm and welcome despite the chill in the air. A little piece of freedom, just for a few minutes, where time lingered a little longer, the usual racing thoughts floating away like clouds on the wind. Just a minute longer, a second, to not have to care, to be worry free, to hold on to the feeling of just existing without consequence or doubt. To feel loved for free and the freedom of love. The last cloud of smoke disappears into the sky and the fleeting image of a childhood dream skitters like a mosquito across water.

The sand between my toes

It's always late at night, when the streets are quiet and lights are reflected in the wet tarmac. The stillness of a great city seems larger as a lone car passes by, tyres buzzing on the wet road. The car starts easily and gently hums, waiting to become the lead in the orchestra. The music is always cool and fun and yet somehow is always remembered as a soft cool jazz track played at some dark little club full of smoke and idle chatter. The driving is easy and keeps the focus away from having to speak, the conversation amusing and enjoyable. Heartbeats thump louder and faster than the music, almost deafening, hands gently shake while reaching to change through the gears. Sights, sounds, smells and touches all gathered and tucked away for later. It's over all too quickly, the car gently stopping, the door is open and pleasantries offered. A wave and a smile and the buzz of the tyres on the wet road. Til next time.