we step into the sun
point our faces to the sky
and close our eyes
breathing in hints of the fake Spring that pays us a visit every February
we begin to walk
discussing an exhibit we just took in
a bird sings to us from behind
he casually whistles a song back
typically I would, too
but I’m preoccupied with the rumble in my tummy that’s been plaguing me for days
is it stress?
maybe too much caffeine
I take a sip of coffee as I wonder which one it could be
– a lovely Sunday in February
Who knows where thoughts come from?
They just appear.
– Lucas to Joe, Empire Records
