20 November 2012
I found Tranquility, this summer past, down by the lake. She was on her way elsewhere, but then...she always is. She looked exhausted, but then...she always is. I think she saw something behind my eyes. She stopped, she took the time. Those ten minutes fuel me still. Ten minutes in the grass, my head in her lap, watching the sun filter through her long hair. Ten minutes of stillness. Ten minutes of mute silence, just wind and the sound of moving water. The slight damp of grass against my back and the comfort of warm thighs. Without a word she lay my head to the ground, with a gentleness she alone is blessed with, then left. I fear I only added to her burden, made her later still. Did my ten minutes rob another of theirs? Did it delay their moment of tranquility beyond their ability to bear? I know I am the better for it...but wonder to this day about the cost.
Stealing Tranquility • Opuss № I