lunch breaks

There’s nothing to do in this area. Anything around here is too expensive. So I find myself out the back of my workplace. Sitting on a piece of cardboard on a crate from some delivery. Back against the wall with a welcome sign hanging over my head. Behind the wall are trees. Casting shadows over my head. It’s actually sunny for once. Not hot tho. Its nice. The kind of weather that makes you crave a body of water and drowning in your lovers eyes. My mother hates the word lover. Thinks it’s dirty. Wrong. Announcing you’ve laid down with another.

I’ve always loved the word lover. I think it’s soft. Sweet. Intimate in the same way early morning rises are. Call people who I have never laid down with lover because I think they are soft and sweet.

Birds are singing over me. Or talking. Sounds like one is very talkative while the other replies every few sentences. I don’t know. I can’t speak bird.

Headphones broke the other day. Maybe that’s why I’m so tuned into the birds, the barking dog tied outside, cars passing by and the wind greeting the leaves above my head.

It’s relaxing out here. This weather is always relaxing. Takes me back to the fields my brother and I would run through as children while everyone else watched the local football game. Gentle breeze and we’d run through the blades of grass. Finding the tiniest stream, treating it as though it were a waterfall. I suppose it is to a certain degree. Ants most likely see streams as waterfalls. Only differences is perspective I suppose.

The Boy is working on his novel right now. Says he has been thinking about it so much he might go mad. I’m the very same. Interlinked we are. Haven’t gotten much opportunity to sit and write. For that reason, one hour breaks are a sweet thing.

However, as the return of work looms over my head, that’s awfully bitter.

Hour long breaks are such a bittersweet thing.