balcony sunset
a table for one with sky
in my glass
I want to treat myself to a nice dinner after hanging up on my mother an hour ago. However, her parting words, "you'll regret staying single with no children for the rest of your life," float in the air like specks of dust catching the neon lights cast from New Heaven Restaurant's sign. These words now sit like rocks in my knotted stomach. I've heard them often since my divorce.
Most people around me still measure worth, success, and happiness in terms of wedding rings and strollers. "Oh, this weight of a good marriage with happy children," I murmur to myself. I notice that I'm playing with the phantom ring on my finger.
As I wait for my dessert, I look around and spot only two other tables-for-one in this crowded, trendy restaurant. I order another glass of wine to drown out the noisy voice from my inner demon. Feeling a little tipsy, I pay and walk the long way home to clear my mind, then I take a shower and go to bed even earlier than usual.
Drifting in and out of my dream, I see something bright and soft swirling in a world of one color.
footprints in new snow
on the road to the church ...
muffled sound of bells
