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Looking back at yesterday’s dinner.
About women a lot is written, though hardly anything in stone. No wonder we men often equate impressions of the female and the feline, admission of awe and inspiration. We don’t get either, not at all.
I often think we’re simply not supposed to, answer to a question. Which trumps which, road or destination. Alone before the fall.
Dinner is a stage, a theatre of presentation. Rare to see one where in balance it is human. This however was one, bringing beauty, comfort and honest conversation.
A fortunate experience, creating an openness more than sufficient for sentiments and intruige. Tears were present, but of laughter and sheer joy.
Still, I must admit, while one step is definately one taken, it does not make a dance. Prelude towards acceptance of an invitation given, yes. As dance lies too close to memory, not one taken, at least not now, as such.
Because of honesty and balance, understanding and acceptance allows for my moving on. Maybe another step will follow, once upon a time. For now that one step, does suffice for all.
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NO ORDINARY CHARACTERS . . . AND ALL THE STEAM
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