Wednesday, April 6, 2011
I phone the Immigration service.
I am number 12 in the cue.
Classical tones enter my ears.
I think of the day I'm having.
How come we often feel as we think
How come we make ourselves tired
I feel like a zombie amidst bubbly flowers.
The classical music halts mid flow.
A voice answers:
How may I help you today?
I forgive myself for my droopy ways.
I picture the classical music again.
Justin asks for my address.
And I finally feel my mood lift.
Thank you immigration service
For the 8 minute reprieve I needed from my busy brain.
The vibes of goodness have returned.
On the line.
Posted by Mirjam at 2:59 PM