Waves in your space

" I had looked past every rose

for love made a scorn of me

Then you, with your rain,

and thunder and snow

touch like the first sun in winter.

I now bloom a rose garden, thriving of your fragrance."

.

She yawned watching the clock tick away.

fifty-nine.

sixty.

a complete revolution of the second-hand. Another minute gone.

Salima watched the population in this side of the cafe. She was tired of counting every single person who had walked in, a total number of forty two. She had read each of the forty two faces, their expressions and she had guessed right at least ten temperaments.

Her eyes roved hungrily, bouncing off the window space and the fraction of humanity that had passed by it then back to the view in front of her that no longer served as a distraction.

Pit bottom emptiness.

Just a sum of what life was like in the mind of a suspected neuro-divergent. an abyss of existential nothingness and it feels like a walking dead.