Words Just So

The Blue Door...continued (part 4)

How can anyone concentrate? She thought.

A city helicopter had been circling overhead for the last 15 minutes. Traffic?

Marta sat at her laptop trying to formulate thoughts, but tragically the results were often highlight and delete.

Rebel lay underfoot. Occasionally Marta would take her stockinged feet and rub the dogs side. Showing her pleasure, Rebel would roll over slightly to expose her belly.

The day was winding down gently, the sun withdrawing from the front room window, receding into the late afternoon hours. Marta looked at her wristwatch. It was almost 4:30. She hadn’t accomplished a thing. Her back was sore. A headache was imminent. Richard would be home soon.

Marta rose from her desk and peered outside. Activity around the park was picking up despite the fine mist of precipitation slowly turning the sun bleached sidewalk to a muddy khaki. Joggers with iPods, groups of kids passing through on their way to a corner store, dogs on leashes and mothers taking their babies out for a stroll. She looked at her watch once more, 4:35.

The breath of activity outside was a welcomed distraction after a day spent mesmerized by static type waiting patiently behind a flashing cursor.

Her stomach had been growling for the last half hour, but she made no attempt to quiet it.

She needed a shower and glass of wine…a bottle of wine, she thought.

Marta doubled-checked the lock on the front door and powered down her laptop. If she hurried she would be out of the shower with hair dried before Richard got home.

The flood of water turning from cold to warm to hot felt good on her hand. Awareness. Another distraction. The soreness in her back was subsiding. The headache wasn’t exploding. There was just the present moment flushing beneath the surface. Her body suddenly felt less rigid. Wondering if this feeling would last, Marta exhaled. A slight shiver. She would fight to hold onto it for as long as she could.