I’m still in Oxford by way of Endeavor
back to Inspector Lewis but not sure
why I’m watching these over and over.
A middle of the week martini is rare for
me as was the salad. It was either that
or throw the lettuce out tomorrow.
The BBC must be part of my grieving
process or some process not sure
at this point.
What could have been a productive
book editing day turned into a so-so
OneNote vs. Evernote shoot out.
Add to that late afternoon thunder
storms and the day was meant to
be weird. The joy of the day was
texting you, loving you by emoji
and laughter that neither of us
could hear, but could feel deep
down inside we miss each other
so very much. Martini, salad,
cheese, and a few crackers with
Lewis and Hathaway where I
found them ten years ago made
me think about where I might
be ten years from now. Then, I
decided that wasn’t a good idea.
When I had a plan the future
went awry. Wrong plan. So, I don’t
have a plan beyond today and the
future remains a mystery. I put my
dishes in the sink and decided it
was far better for me to think of
you; so I smiled as I thought about
what it would be like to touch your
hand or trace your lips with my
finger and how lovely it would be
to linger over coffee with you every
morning for the rest of my life and
talk about anything at all.