The Story of Waiting

There’s this numb silence sitting all over the place. I thought you’d hear it when you went outside this morning. The stillness hasn’t changed – it never does. Even when the wind blows, you can tell only by the movement of trees and by the circling of the little iron bird on top of the building. I feel like I’m watching this great landscape – it doesn’t even change throughout the seasons.

Outside, the bench is cold and the grass is dewy. The air is clean – it’s an exact opposite of what we share. I sit alone, legs crossed, listening to the sounds of the street. My heart pounds with every car I head, every footstep gives me anxiety.

Even from the inside, I make all noises disappear. I can almost see the exterior with my ears. You lack from this picture.

It would’ve been so much nicer with you in it