the bee and the river

If I were to take today and only today. how would I live.

I would wake up at seven. No nine or ten. I would read a little. Maybe the times. Maybe a short story. Like today but different.
I would put on a dress. A really pretty one. It would flow in the warm breeze. The colors would match that of the sky and the bed of the river. When I walked down to the river. The river and I would be one. In theory. My hair will be a up. But one of those loose days where it's okay for the wind to take it. Still up. Still perfect.
I would lay down on the grass. Close my eyes. Open them. I would still be laying there. I don't think I would move or read or do anything but lay there for two hours. Maybe just an hour. My head would be clear. So it would be okay, I would be able to just lay.
Much like the morning before I left Peytons. I hadn't a thought overcome me. No burden of turbulance to wave over the empty calm taking place in my head. The comfort of my surroundings. The bed like clouds. The air the sky a blanket of peace and me. Me just still. Just. Heaven.
That's how I would feel laying next to the river. With knowing that I don't have to do anything. I bet I could be there for two hours. Just long enough. Long enough to know that life must be okay if I can sit without worry for that long.
After this I would walk. While listening to. Listening to. Hmmm. I will let you know. It will be big. Orchestratic. Overwhelming with soul. The music you only hear with your heart. It's that beautiful that you get taken away through every peak and valley of sweeping notes.
The day would continue with my walk. I would be noticed. A handsome young man would pay me attention. With a brisk look in his eyes. I would be taken back by this. Not surprised but flattered. If he did approach the conversation would be had. We would start off with comparing my radiance to that of our surroundings. He would notice that my eyes are not brown. He would see the red. The green. The change. There would be mention of the weather. I would take resposibility for it. Let him know that I accept his confident air around me. However. He should probably knock down a wall and realize that we are vulnerable creatures. He would take this with grace. So would I.
If he didn't talk to me. I would not be offended. Even I recognize the power that I have to make men boys. This task is often had by accident. Men is only a front. Boys never really become men. One of those things I learned from my mother. I know a good day by the applied knowledge from mother.
I would continue on to a quiet eatery. One that happens to have my favorite music playing. I would at this point run into a friend. One that I have those real conversations with. The good one. The one that knows my cunt demeanor is balanced with a simple overseen modesty and grace. I would recognize this in my friend and ask them how their day was. It would be fairly shabby. They would be trying to work out a kink in their project. I would offer input. They would love it. This would allow for us to continue on for another hour. We would switch from coffee to beer. I would tell them about my extravagent life discipline lesson of the night before. They would joke about cock. We will make plans. I will leave.
I will not have to write on this day. I will have done it the day before. I will be able to do it tomorrow. I will not be working because I have found a way to be the lady in the attic. I will just go home. Change my outfit. Fix my hair. And attend to my evening affairs. Where nothing matters because everything is alright.


Via: the consumer