We'll Do It All Again, Part IV { 2

[27yrsandwelldoitallagain]

But I'm starting to believe
Oh, I'm starting to believe
That this could be the start
of something good



Audrey isn't paying it any mind when the heavy, night dark shifts

and slips, slowly, softly, sideways.
Into sunlight and hardwood.
A padded chair.

Into the gentle tapping of a pen.
Then, writing. Pausing. More writing.

Impatient nerves, that are edged with a bubble of excitement at every just barely leveled glance toward the door in front of her under her brim. Something about the last few days. It's left her charged. The days all the paperwork on her desk are about. Long days. Confusing Days. Weird days. Complicated families and friendships. Strange things. But it's lead around to this.

This sparking lightness. The necessary levity.

The bouncing need for the right person to come in the door.

Comments

[dont_feel_it]

He's looking down, flipping over the file in his hands when he comes in. No reason to expect anything different.

Except there's a flash of red at the corner of his eye, and when he glances that way, it stops him. Not dead in his tracks, the way the books so often say, but like a motor somewhere suddenly stalled, makes him drift to a halt.

Silently absorbing the sight before him.




Something not quite a smile already working at his mouth. Even as he says nothing at all.