There are souls that circle around us waiting to reveal themselves with only a small window of opportunity to see one another. That’s how so many people lose, pass over or just never meet their soul mate, because the timing is off.
The girl sits looking out the window on the plane holding a picture. She looks around to see if the face she seeks is among the passengers.
She’s walking still searching through the airport, face pressed up against the windows of the building. She runs out into the street and stops as the taxi drives by. She holds up the picture and then drops her arms in surrender.
Though Holding her squirts at the hips, they still drag while running through the woods. Coming to a field, she spins around and around with arms outstretched. She follows the outline of the forest, lifting bushes while searching. She holds the tartan plaid of his clan that had clung in the thicket to her face, closes her eyes and breaths in it’s musky scent. It is still stained with the blood of it’s brave owner. She fails in her search and walks back toward the croft.
While wringing out the clothes in the Midwestern sun, the woman gets up to push past the laundry on the line. She looks at her young children playing and thought she heard water running. In a nearby basin she hears the water, it ripples as she gets closer. As she peers inside the tub she sees a man in a truck in it’s reflection instead of her own. The dust is still on his face and she jumps back spilling the water and making her drop the towel she was folding. She runs down the long driveway along the fence toward the road. When she reaches the road she can see for miles and nothing is there. Returning to her chores, she forgets all about the towel that lay in the grass as she picks up the hat that had blown near the basin.
The Princess waves off her servant as she paints the kohl on her eyes . Her gown is the finest worn in ancient Egypt. She passes her hands over the walls inside the temple. Running from corridor to corridor, she pushes back flowing silks and curtains sailing from wind blown tunnels. She carries with her an amulet left on the alter and looks behind and in front of her searching for it‘s owner. When she gets to the opening she sees there is no one there, drops her hands and sits on the massive steps, bowing her head and wrapping her arms around her knees. The beads tumble down the stairs as she tears at the necklace that chokes her leaving only a few beads and the leather it was bound to on the floor.
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