A warm September evening. We have dinner by the open window. The sound of table tennis from the adjacent court accompanies our conversations. About what happened today. What tomorrow will bring. Then we head to the ice cream shop. She gets wild berry yoghurt, he chooses chocolate, I pick blood orange. We stroll through the neighbourhood. It’s dark now, but still warm. And the three of us stroll along as if we were whiling away the time. But I absorb every moment. I am sure we all do. In a way. In three different ways. So precious. While doing so little. The most precious time I can imagine. And life, at this strolling evening, feels as light as it can only feel when you believe in the future. Not in the way that everything will be fine. How could I know. But in the way that in the distant or not-so-distant future, I will be able to say that I didn't miss out on anything. And that is what makes me look to the time ahead with hope. Whatever may come.
Walk on 