26
Abandoned, left behind, forgotten. She sits in a Tim Horton's with an open notebook, a pencil, and a small hot chocolate on her table. A discussion of human rights and religion sparking from just a few steps away - passionate about their convictions, listening to each other in this wayside station of wanderers and stragglers in the nearby midnight.
Rain is pouring like turrets of a late November afternoon, but it's 11:08 p.m on a Tuesday night in December.
"Is it determined when you're born?" a puzzled voice asks.
Eruptions of loud remarks and fervent comments fills up the cavernous coffee shop, making it difficult for her to focus but she continues; losing herself in a conversation in which she invited herself into as she waits for the bus home.
A white truck rests outside the entrance door, the rain is coming down strongly now - much different compared to the soft drizzle it was just an hour ago. Staring at the drops of rain crashing into the puddles found in the holes of the parking lot floor, creating a myriad of miniature nuclear explosions that cause no harm but a slight disturbance for a girl without an umbrella.
She remembers when she was here with him.
Exchanging conversation, moments of silence, company, and presence. A home in which they created out of a banal environment, finding a way to fill the hollowness of unspoken dreams, painful pasts with the wholeness of, "Let me know and I will be there for you." A hidden belief found in the crevices of future plans, faith that needed no poetry or prose but simply the fragile, delicate body sitting in the chair across. Each encounter a picnic in Spring, or a coffee in the Autumn breeze.
She longed for peace that came when he would walk into the room, look at her with those innocent irises and wave, "Hello."
Yet, she's trying to find a different peace now.
One that doesn't feel like she is a droplet of rain colliding with the cracked pavement of his smile, the laugh that turned life into a comedy, the hope of a future that was abandoned, left behind, forgotten.
Their discussion has gone quiet.
Yells turn into whispers, intensity into indifference, the orchestra takes a breath.
Listen to the drops of rain.
Listen before the scene fades into black, see before nothing can be heard anymore.
https://youtu.be/_t-nRXwAL1k?t=258
totus tuus
Rain is pouring like turrets of a late November afternoon, but it's 11:08 p.m on a Tuesday night in December.
"Is it determined when you're born?" a puzzled voice asks.
Eruptions of loud remarks and fervent comments fills up the cavernous coffee shop, making it difficult for her to focus but she continues; losing herself in a conversation in which she invited herself into as she waits for the bus home.
A white truck rests outside the entrance door, the rain is coming down strongly now - much different compared to the soft drizzle it was just an hour ago. Staring at the drops of rain crashing into the puddles found in the holes of the parking lot floor, creating a myriad of miniature nuclear explosions that cause no harm but a slight disturbance for a girl without an umbrella.
She remembers when she was here with him.
Exchanging conversation, moments of silence, company, and presence. A home in which they created out of a banal environment, finding a way to fill the hollowness of unspoken dreams, painful pasts with the wholeness of, "Let me know and I will be there for you." A hidden belief found in the crevices of future plans, faith that needed no poetry or prose but simply the fragile, delicate body sitting in the chair across. Each encounter a picnic in Spring, or a coffee in the Autumn breeze.
She longed for peace that came when he would walk into the room, look at her with those innocent irises and wave, "Hello."
Yet, she's trying to find a different peace now.
One that doesn't feel like she is a droplet of rain colliding with the cracked pavement of his smile, the laugh that turned life into a comedy, the hope of a future that was abandoned, left behind, forgotten.
Their discussion has gone quiet.
Yells turn into whispers, intensity into indifference, the orchestra takes a breath.
Listen to the drops of rain.
Listen before the scene fades into black, see before nothing can be heard anymore.
https://youtu.be/_t-nRXwAL1k?t=258
totus tuus
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