Five Minute Warning

Ok guys and dolls, this is your five minute warning.

The voice was coming from the fire escape on the top of the Pier Pressure nightclub. An officious voice but warm. Was it a security man, telling the smokers who congregate outside on the fire escape that the club was closing? The music was still pumping out, so it didn’t seem likely. Or was it a friend geeing them along because a taxi was due? Who knows? The voice was carried across the sea and lost, its content and sound soon gone from sight and memory.

Nothing matters, she said, her eyes too weary to cry, but oh, so blue. Tell your children, she begged, while they are still young enough. She was incredible really. Is incredible. Such courage, coming all that way, each week, her body weighed down with such leaden anxiety. She asked me to call her. I’m in the phone book, she said, there’s only two of us, the other is my son. They all looked so much better, their faces shone. Not mine, I was grey with disappointment and fear. I didn’t think I’d get through yesterday but I did. I did it. And the review is almost written.

Then I found the poem. Each one has been so relevant. It was about kindness. You have to lose it all to find it. Let go of it all. Ah, that is so difficult but I will try. Nothing matters, said that wise old woman. Young woman too, still locked, as she is in her childhood. Nothing matters. No thing matters. Not now, not ever. Just this interplay of relationships and a willingness to be kind.

A beautiful morning, the sun lights up the trees in the distance.

I have work soon. I’ve made a flask and I will take a book and my sewing, not yet sure what it is I want to do. I shall sit first. My silent time. Ten minutes to just breathe. It is enough.