It’s windy in Southern California tonight.
The air pours across the sky, dips and dives between the rivets of houses, blends her way through my hair, around my collar, up my nose, into my lungs, and —
And what happens in this settling?
Absence, anticipation, longing.
Everything is magic for a moment, suspended between action and inaction, until she gradually whips up again. She carries my feet forward, pushes gently at the backs of my arms, saying go – go faster! Run!
And I do. I pick up my pace, and my feet beat against the dried leaves and concrete beneath me, and “Holocene” pours through my headphones, and I’m flying, and I’m happy, and I’m feeling so alive, and so full, and also so empty, knowing that this moment is temporary, destined to end soon, maybe even before the song ends.