Waiting for Me


Well, what if….

There are always possibilities. There are always times that can seem as though they offer all the ways you want to go. There, in an instant, it seems the future lies in the palm of your hand, just waiting for you to close your fingers around it and clutch it tight to yourself, never to let go.

I have been there and I have held on to those moments. I have seen the world begin to shape itself around me and the road I walk down.

I have created the distant horizon and shaped the sky that barely touches it. I have peopled that sky with a bare handful of small white clouds to contrast against the eternal blue. I have sculpted those dark distant hills that keep the lands of my creation safe from the unknown that lies behind. I have turned the twists of the slow lazy river to flow between the sides of these valleys I walk down. I have traced this roadway that goes to meet the simple wooden bridge that crosses the lazy river to go on towards the village that nestles beyond, filled with those who know me. A place where I know the one small cottage waits where I have placed you, waiting for me to come home.

Published by David Hadley

A Bloke. Occasionally points at ducks.

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