Procrastination
“It’s too late to do anything about it now,”
I thought as I put down the phone - though I’d
really intended to make the call in time,
she’d somehow died before I’d allocated
the time to dial across the miles and
the long years to hear, one last time, her voice
weakened by the cancer that her brother
had told me, only two days ago,
would soon still her pain, her love, her desire
and her earthly ties to anyone and
anything associated with this thing
we call life - and then... setting aside
my sorrow, regret and memories, I
contemplated the deadline for entries to
the SLAM Practice Round and noted that I
still had eight hours, maybe even a bit more,
which allowed me to consider mowing the lawn,
a task I’d been putting off for far too long.
Stream of consciousness...
** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only **
** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only **
The following section applies to this forum item as a whole,
not this individual post.
Any feedback sent through it will go to the forum's
owner, Cappucine.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/forums/message_id/1280420
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.27 seconds at 6:25pm on May 08, 2024 via server web2.