The Laugh

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I texted her yesterday. A horrible, distant attempt to connect with an old friend, but how else was I supposed to do it.

Faces turned downward on a black, metallic bench. Hard like the tensions we put upon ourselves. Hard like the world we reside in; a cruel place for the kind of heart.

And all of a sudden out of the corner of my eye, I see her smile begin to form. I wonder if she's conscious of her muscles working. You know, it takes more muscles to frown than to smile...

She says thanks for the time we shared as she laughs openly, abruptly.

The bike wheels turn underneath her as wind blows through her dark hair. The sun licks the ground, her cheek. The laugh resonates deeply through the windswpet air.

I say you're very welcome. It's good to hear you laugh again. The road is her life. My life.

I hope it has lot's of sunshine.





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