From here, the sound of galvanized rubber on wet asphalt washes like ocean waves, and a freight train purrs in the distance. Wind makes chimes sing softly while water drips. A soft purple sky overhead is interrupted by the lights of an airplane, while the roar of its engine cuts gently through the clouds.
From here, there is only the sound of three clocks dancing out of sync against the soft purr of electric current, as this brick and wooden house, and all within its walls, sleep.
From here, there is only the memory of her face. She is there and I am here. I am alone.
It's in these moments that my heart fills. I feel that it might burst and that tears might spill from my eyes. Compulsively I reach forward, staring into the face of the woman I am imagining and feeling the keys beneath my fingertips, I press.