Quietness

Unplug.

Disconnect.

Turn off the key to the car and hear the quiet ticking of the engine as you arrive home to a place that is so familiar.

The return to normalcy is like a return to winter...the time together is a summer.  He remembers his walk across the floor and when certain steps made the floor creak...and she might look up, and raise her arms to him...to indulge and embrace.  To accept a drink.  To clink heavy crystal glasses.  To come together.

Being together was a weather system...humid and tempestuous...like the day before a hurricane...the volatility...the raw unkempt emotion swirling around them.  They came together in a sweet violence, a delicate carnage...and when the time collapsed to separate them it was a cold and quiet street.

Separation was like amputation...the physical disconnect. Of something that was originally together...made to be together.  And now not...phantom itches and tingling of something that should be there.

It is like returning home to a place devastated by a tornado...it looks vaguely familiar, you find certain objects that were there before...the address is the same but goddamn is it in bricks and collapses that you find yourself returning...except you blink and the house is not damaged except in your mind.  And you go outside and sniff the air and wonder if another storm is brewing...and maybe you anticipate it...wait for it.

Ask for it.

And now...in the quietness, you find yourself thinking of the mercurial...the whimsical.  The odd chances, the construction of storm clouds and the randomness of tornadoes...and you crave the disruption...the destruction of boredom and day to day...the interruption of a force that grabs your attention, makes you cling, makes you quiver...

and in the quietness it practically shouts...you want to contain it, stuff rags into the mouth and wrap tape twice over...you want the return to summer, the bathing waters of warmth...

And instead it is just quiet...a storm passed...the leftovers.  But maybe, just maybe there is just a whiff of hint of rain...another storm.

Maybe.