A Winters Daydream

It’s just gone seven thirty in the morning.

I sit at my desk and gaze out my office window, into the dark and wet December morning, and watch the rain dancing wildly in the small lakes that have formed in the holes in the road.

I refocus my eyes and see the every-changing streams of water flowing down the cold glass pane. They captivate me as I follow their chaotic paths and time starts to have no meaning.

Then, from the early morning gloom, a monster roars, its blazing eyes startle me back into the land of the fully awake. A truck races down the road smashing through the puddles, causing the water to fly free from its prison. In the wake of the machine, the rain quickly fills the potholes and starts its manic dance again.

I shake my head and pinch the bridge of my nose. A half heard tune on the radio suddenly makes me smile. It reminds me of you. Suddenly I can smell the fragrance of your hair, the touch of your fingertips and the taste of your lips. I reach out for my mug of tea as I close my eyes and think about your face; my beautiful princess.

The ballad finishes. I open my eyes.

Looking at my computer and keyboard, I place down my untouched mug and stretch my fingers as I prepare to do battle from my office tower.

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