Baby, Come Home

It should have been raining.

That is how it is in the song.

The steering wheel is trembling in my grasp. The seat is heaving. The windshield is wet with the rain that is not there.

"She's in a long black coat tonight."

Red tail lights blinking, blinding. Distorted. The car suddenly feeling smaller and tighter. 

"Waiting for me in the downpour outside."

Tires lose air. The wheels fall off. 

Rain runs in rivulets down the windows. 

"She’s singing, 'baby, come home' in a melody of tears."

The fan is wheezing. Temperature in flux, cold vents battle hot air. 

Cold sweat burns on my skin.

"While the rhythm of the rain keeps time."

The traffic moves. The rain comes down hard. 

Lights flash, and dissipate. I am shivering under the heater.

Everything heaves. The wheels barely move; tires in shreds.

"Baby, come home."

Calypso Du Evening

Sunday evening.

The closing of a weekend well spent in warm beds and warmer embraces.

The weekday melancholy rushing relentlessly, refusing to let our peace, our space stay.

We will make the best of this.

We will make tonight timeless.

A stroll on the banks of the canal, the sun resting into the earth, ruddy glow dissipating from the sky, giving way to our favourite blues.

Walking hand in hand, hers perfectly holding mine, sharing our warmth. Our breaths misted out, mingled and flew ephemerally into the dusk.

I wordlessly asked her to join our senses, twirling the tiny square of our music between my fingers.

She smiled, sprinkling stars into the growing night, ready with our ears.

I gave the square a little shake, leaving it to digital fate.

One - Ed Sheeran.

 Cosmos smiles down on us. The late evening becomes the perfect night.

We walk along the water, pulled deep into our third space, the world around us melting into azure. Sight was not important. There was only sound. Her touch. Our warmth.

The trees rang out with soft strumming, wind serenaded sweet notes, our feet tapped the bass beneath us.

We walked closer, arms wrapped, spirits entwined in unison of music.

I turn to her, her hands in mine, her eyes whisking me into her universe.

"You are my only one."