Slumped in my front row chair. My eyes, usually so fixed on the stuttering instructor, instead gaze through the yellow cement brick wall. My lips slightly parted. All of a sudden, I start fiercely and a f
ire kindles in my eyes, as though a bolt of lightning struck my small frame.
A smile in sleep. A sigh over work.
Thoughts counting hours, sand dropping through the hour glass, faster and slower. Eyes fixed on the horizon, arms stretched wide.
Waiting and trembling and wishing and thinking... for you, dear. Of you, dear.