There are lost hours. The ones nobody thinks about. The one where everyone's asleep -and the world is cool and quite. Those are the hours that are mine. Completly, absolutly mine. Whether to sit in the quiet, listening to the crickets with their back and fourth chirping; sit at a counter, thinking and drinking black coffee or driving on a highway with a sky darker blue than pillow cut sapphires. In those moments, it's all yours- and everything you love matters. Everything. The ultimate luxury, even if it's only every now and again.
Elizabetown
No comments:
Post a Comment