Concerning the Morning Pageantry of Couples Making Oatmeal

Her hands must move with outstanding grace as she prepares the last items for oatmeal setting. She dashes Pink Himalayan Salt over the oats still seething in their pot upon the stove, stirs the dish seven times with a wooden spoon, turns off the burner and covers it. Taking a sip of her Chai, she glances a hard stare at the table setting, determining whether the right time has come, and whether she is ready to welcome another soul into her existence this day. She might decide, and this be her natural right, to keep this day her own for a moment longer. And who could blame her, for the oaf in the other room is quite oafish.


Love begins in the rain

Above her floats a mosquito net, twisted and tied and hung from the ceiling, swaying and sashaying in the fan gusts. In the dark room, with the wind blowing strong against the stone rough walls and through the open shutters, and the sound of water everywhere, there is a strong sense of the sea, and suddenly the mosquito net is a giant jellyfish drifting in deep moonlit waters. So she drifts along upon the tide, and if there is a firefly (as I so dearly wish) then it sparkles upon the ceiling like a star caught in the waves.


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