So it seems I haven't been particularly in the mood to spin any tales or work bits of story from under floorboard and over cupboard lately. Having the swine flu is of no help, nor is the gray weather and having to deal with so, so much change in such a short window of space and time.
But there are still church bells, all around me it seems, and my favourite water tower in the distance, and mist. And these eyes of Rembrant's that I somehow want to feel sadder, at least right now. His gaze looks at me inquisitively, intelligently and with just a faint hint of melancholy. But not enough.
For in his sadness I could forgo some of mine. But such is the way of things at times. To bring an even richer experience of joy, to let go of the need for the room to not smell like pickles, and for my heart to feel less bruised.
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