The Black Nail

Late this morning I went to the grocery store. Milk, Orange Juice, frozen fruits for the blender. I stopped off on my way home at a coffee shop on Hillsboro. After receiving my drink I sat inside for a few moments, took in my surroundings and penned this thought - just another day come and gone like all the rest, a speck of sand blown by the wind – taken where it’s told.

I inventoried the cast surrounding me; playing the part of sitting in a coffee shop. Reading, scouring the internet, connecting via the cell phone. Quite standard, quite mundane. Yet, excellent role play by all.

I missed the days of working on my book, writing in coffee shops. Too much to do in the office these days. I hoped that soon I’d get back to writing, hoped.

As I walked out the door I looked up to see a raven fly over head; just as it passed the tower of an adjacent church the bells released their midday song.

All was quite, save the tolling bells.

It is in those moments, that seem to be so scripted, that I know I am still here. And furthermore, it is in those moments that I know someone else knows I am here and wants to make sure that I know.

I reached my car at the other end of the parking lot, strapped myself in and let out a sigh. Dialing in a playlist from my iPhone and pressing shuffle, “Almost Lover” by A Fine Frenzy began playing. I pulled out of my spot. Prior to passing the doors of the coffee shop a beautiful woman walked out in front of me, crossing the street and making her way inside. Momentarily I had forgotten that I was driving, forgot that I was sitting in a car.

Forgot that I was still here.

All was quiet, save the song on my stereo and the horn of a car behind me bellowing its existence.

Timing is everything.

The rest, unscripted.