With racing heart I rushed into the warm night, no sleeves, no bra. Straining to see, my weak eyes searched the darkness to see her. Why didn’t I reach for my glasses before leaving my bedroom? I could hear her voice seemingly far, far away…not of the present…maybe someone’s television set, or maybe the radio, iPod, or Pandora. It couldn’t be the latter two because it was not music to my ears. It would have been great if it were music. Jazz or even better some nerve calming classical, or maybe the blues. No, no, not the blues, not now.
Life can be a bitch/bastard!