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Tuesday, January 15, 2013



From the typewriter: 

Time, 

stopped. glimpses of the fading sky through all the windows surrounded by these glimpses of sky, fading, but still time is stopped, paused, and I live an entire lifetime in the second it takes to raise a cup of coffee to my lips and drink. In that act is a life. 

The sky is cloudy outside and the overcast is a blanket, bundling me up. I am wrapped in a blanket, without time. 

Time catches up with you I suppose. Steele left the apartment after a tense moment. The moment was silly, unmattering, but still he left and I sat on the couch in my timeless bubble. I wanted another kiss, I wanted the chance to say that I was silly and sorry and to have a good day at work. I ran out of the apartment, in the brisk air. 

Time broke. The world filled in around me. It was 1 in the afternoon, and the world was going about its business, people on the street. The clouds weren't a bundle after all. The air rushed past my face. I saw Steele's car pulling out of it's parking space. I ran harder, until it was turning, and I wouldn't make it. I touched my hand to a telephone poll. I walked back with my heart rushing, my breath labored, passed a few people. Maybe I was their proof of time, too. 

Then I sat back on the couch, in my bundle again, and called Steele to tell him the things I ran outside to tell him, to tell him I ran after him. My voice broke, and silly tears hit my cheeks. He came home, and then there he was in the living room, I was pressed against his chest. I loved him for coming back, and he loved me for calling him home, always. 

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