a weary Friday night

“I forgot my toothbrush.”

He stood there, silent and motionless for mere seconds that magnified themselves into infinite segments of eternity. Then he spoke.

“That’s not exactly what your voice message said.”

The words cut through the awkward silence that hung thickly between us like the sharpest scythe. And then he smiled a weary, Friday night smile.

“Welcome, Roxanne,” he positioned the door wide open and gestured to me enter as he spoke. He spoke with that familiar, subtle warmth in his voice. I felt the fatigue and its encasing surprise. An incredible relief fell upon me as I walked across the threshold, and into that old, familiar living room. A fury of fears and anxieties fell across and away from me, like a gentle breeze falls across and away from itself.

In these moments, it occurred to me just why the caged bird sings of freedom.*

*The Caged Bird Sings of Freedom is a poem by Maya Angelou*


~ by frizzyscissorhands on July 14, 2008.

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