Thursday, January 22, 2009

Foresight... Eventually.

It's late. I'm exhausted, but can't sleep. I'm sick. So I watched a movie called, "A Girl in the Cafe." It was a nice little movie about a hopelessly boring and shy British man whose job is to convince world leaders to save the lives of the dying in Africa, financially speaking, and a mysterious and surprisingly outspoken Scottish woman (only to him, who apparently has never met any Scottish women) who meet in a cafe and have a connection and attempt to change the world together... financially speaking. She gave this one line at the end, "I can't see us having a future together," and that was enough to spawn this, which I know is a little pretentious, but too bad. I like it. You don't have to. Anyway, it played in my mind as I went to bed and I didn't want to get up to write it, even though I knew I had to, and I wasn't tired. But it's cold. And I was comfortable. Anyway, I did get up, and the plus side, other than the feeling good part of writing, is that I've been awake long enough to take another dose of cough medicine. How I got through three sessions of teaching tonight without being overcome by coughing is nothing short of a miracle. I wasn't even planning on teaching. Please pray that this piece of artwork (as best I know how to create) is the last good thing that comes out of this illness so I can be better. If it isn't, I will do my best to persevere, but I will still need your prayers. Anyway, now that you've read all that:

Foresight

"I don't see a future between us"

"You don't?" I raise my right hand and place two of my fingers on her temple. I place my thumb on her forehead and sweep it right, as if erasing the obstruction.

"What are you doing?"

"Tell me when you see it?"

"See what?"

"Just close your eyes." She does. I open one eye to check.

"I don't get it."

"Shh... I see it."

"See what?" her voice brings a suitcase of annoyance.

"It's morning. The night's been cold. We're in bed. Together. The sunlight drapes over our faces like a blanket. Warms us like a cat under the window in the summer months. I don't want to get up, but the alarm goes off. You let out a little groan and reach over and turn it off. Despite my comfort, I get up with the intention of making you a cup of coffee and announce such as I walk towards the bedroom door. 'I'm making you coffee.'

" 'No, don't.' you say, 'You don't do it right.'

" 'I do it the same way as you.'

" 'Don't make me coffee. I'll make it myself.' You get out of bed and follow me down the hall to the kitchen. I get to the coffee maker before you, but you push me out of the way. 'Go brush your teeth or something.'

"I go to brush my teeth, but you can't see the smile on my face. I'm a liar. I make bad coffee on purpose because it's the only way I can get you out of bed in the mornings. As I brush my teeth, I contemplate, as I do every day, on how I can live my life without breaking the ninth commandment every day and if God is really as concerned with it as much as I am. I spit, rinse, and walk back to you, who is still standing in front of the coffee machine, staring at the drips with half opened eyes. I wrap m arms around your waist, place my nose against your hair and inhale deeply.

"With my outgoing breath, I form the barely audible words, 'I love you.' "

I opened my eyes and removed my hand from our head. Your eyes look up at me and I hope you aren't going to cry or run away. "You see all that?" You ask.

"What did you see?"

"Nothing else."

Have a good night everyone.

1 comment:

Stacey said...

Almost two months between post! Bad blogger! JK. I guess being sick is good for something:) See ya soon.