THE GUEST I

A beautiful surprise.

 Life is full of little interruptions. Side quests. Unexpected journeys. People that filter in. Some of them take a seat at your table, and they stay a good long while. A welcome unexpected guest. The best kind. Sometimes, that guest comes in, quiet and lovely, with softly spoken words, you have to lean in to listen. They steal all of your attention. It is a theft you gleefully accommodate. You think, this guest is only a moment. A passing ray of sweet summer sunlight. So you stretch out in it. Basking like a greedy, lazy cat determined to take it all in. And you do. A wandering day of unexpected wonder. Your guest takes you to see things you’ve never seen before, your favorite thing. Though, they don’t know it. Couldn’t possibly. And at each moment, when you expect the journey to end, it doesn’t. It carries on, a little further, and then a little further still. The guest becomes less and less of a figment. The lines of their face become more focused. Solid. Less ethereal than the summer sunlight, turning into the welcome petrichor of summer rain. You can’t quite recall all the words they said, but you can see clearly the shapes their lips made. You could see each moment like a tiny echo, just before it happens. Like it always happens, like it has always happened, and always will happen. The unexpected guest at your table, pulling the cloth off, and tossing the settings to the floor, in the most marvelous way. You were napping, fully content, and now you are on the floor, wondering why you never thought to be here before.

END PTI