with each breath
expand in silence
drones in the background. Facebook friends wonder, mourn, rejoice. Noise from their fears, post-war venting, and relief.
There’s huge relief in that perhaps, this time, we’ll be able to walk outside without scanning the scene, wondering where to run when there’s a sound of a rocket launching. We’ll be able to gaze into the horizon without seeing smoke from where a rocket landed. We’ll look at the splattered concrete from rockets fallen and know that it’s firmly in past tense.
These are my thoughts.
I’m still a little nervous (or perhaps it’s the coffee)
Now the questions flow. Aside from ceasefire or no ceasefire, it’s back to my own world. Will i have time to finish 3 puppets mid-work? Must i open my school bag to see what work remains to be checked and marked?
Will school resume with its many hearts to comfort? When?
And time flies by as always. The clock ticks no matter what. Its speed varies depending on my state of mind, whether I’m avoiding something or deeply embedded within.
This day after ceasefire.