I sipped my coffee, checking to see if she was awake. Not yet. I didn’t want to disturb her. She sleeps so soundly, but I couldn’t even hear her. I couldn’t see her either. Her alarm must have not gone off, or, more likely, she hit the ‘snooze’ while somewhere in between dreams. I was a little sad, the second day in a row where I could see her before leaving to work. I finished my coffee, toast with nutella, and brushed my teeth vigorously.
On my drive to work I noticed something peculiar. It was clear out, the sun was shining, and there was a full moon. This was quite rare for a fall day tucked away in the northwest. She was probably already feeling the heat. That’s when I noticed it, the lake. I drove past it everyday, but today, it was different. In the glow of the morning, quite cool as it were, the lake met the sun with a burst of steam, not fog, it shimmered like fire. I had to share this moment. And that’s when she called.
Her timing was always impeccable, and just when I wanted to share this rare sight, she was there, telling me things that seems like all my life, how storied, but also as if in this instant, it was all coming together. And we shared these moments, together, physically or not. Yet our time apart would be short lived, our time together would be life.