There was the glorious summer morning, warm and fragrant like a garden, with a salty breeze from the sea.
And there was a woman with tousled hair and no make-up, dressed in old sweatpants and a white T-shirt, sitting barefoot on a balcony in the midst of all this May beauty. A mug of coffee and a laptop with TV shows to be subtitled - the kind of work that doesn't really seem like work at all.
Was it a dream, or was it really my life this morning? Who would have thought, that cold, grey day in March when I cried for my lost job among muddy fields and dark clouds, that I would have a day like this?
When the afternoon grew too hot, I closed my laptop with satisfaction and headed out to while away the rest of the day. Drifted around with my mother until a rain shower surprised us and cooled the air. Went back to the balcony, where we had icecream and coffee and watched the world for a peaceful hour.
Later, a take-away pizza, rainy streets, dreams of love, and being asked, "Are you Turkish?", which made me smile.
This life may be precarious and unsafe - I don't even know where my next paycheck is coming from, if at all. But I promise I will savour it. Freedom and summer.
* * * *
"Precarious, life is. A flying leap. A sweep of hand. A star flung across the night. A lucky catch in this whirling juggling circus act." - Rivera Sun
No comments:
Post a Comment