First day of the week

She woke up thinking about the day
As she walks to the living-room
The night storms away
Shooting guns and
Airplanes
" Don't worry"
He says
"Another day"
She says

The shower is warm
She feels the drops of water
touching her every skin cells
sometimes softly
sometimes harshly
until the balance becomes unwelcome
and she turns the tap
Off

Drying, Wrapping her body
Her long and wavy hair
She exits the bathroom
Enters the bedroom
And yells comfortably
" what are your plans today?"

The sounds of violence in the air
( Adult "entertainment"?)
She knows an answer won't come
She picks a dress
The feel of spring
She tries again
" What are your plans for today?"

It seems like an usual morning
From a standard point of view
Even though mosts days are like
Tropical storms

She turns on a tune
" Internet radio" she says
He hears it as an invitation to leave
The shower turns on
" Same as yours I guess"

" Meeting a friend?"
" I guess I will just sleep"

She tries once more
To find a middle ground
Balance
Fairness?
Existence.

She leaves.

After a long afternoon.
The invitation.
She crosses the living-room.
Walks to the balcony
Breather.


Knock.
" Still sleeping?"
She knows things won't change.
She doesn't assume.
" Now? Later? In some minutes?"
It's okay.

She opens the door
The car lock beeps
She enjoys spending time by herself.
Sometimes.

4 hours later.
" Hello?"
" Please don't come home"
" Okay"

8 hours later.
" Is it okay?"
" Sure... sorry things didn't work out"

She picks up the bags from the trunk.
Make-ups and random girly stuff.
Like dried fruit chips ( they were on sale...)

" That's lovely. Thank you."
" It's my fault... but can you help?"
" Sure."

Dinner ready.
Savouring.
Kind of.
Again.

A message...
A comment.
" Are you saying this again?"
He, back and forth.
She, nothing like a bath after a long day.

After 20 minutes.
She hears the sound of silence.
He's gone.

Another normal day.