Phone call


Like bubbles in the sky… lifeless words carry life-giving hope to the old man who lives among the mountains all alone. On the house up the hill, among people and trees, lives the tired-weary body whom I hear from once a week.

“Work is going all right. Though I should have waited for it be a little warmer.” Lies stiff the green grass, people stay indoors; even if he wants to talk to someone, more than the cold weather, he needs to thaw his ego.

When I met him two years ago, I couldn’t comprehend… how words never prepare you for the images that change over time. He had wrinkles, his vision a little blurred; but he still joked around and forgot, too often, to keep his temper in check.

With thousand miles between us now, I wonder sometimes what I would see. If I could travel inside those bubbles and finally see the face that I rarely get to see.

Words… like bubbles in the sky, burst too often when you are unprepared. The time hasn’t come, but it surely will. I hope I am ready, I hope I am prepared for the pain.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s