Borrowing Time

Copyright © 1999 Walt Zientek

She went into work early.
She thought that she could borrow a little time from her busy day.
Time to sit a while and think. Borrow a little quiet time before the
day filled up with work and work and noise.

She sat at her desk.
Her eyes settled on the old photo. The only one to grace her desk.
The big golden dog with the sweet warm eyes. The one that she had
borrowed from an abusive home.

She saw the beach.
She saw the sand and spray. She remembered how they borrowed
time each year to see that foreign shore and swim in those warm
waters. Through her sadness, she smiled.

She touched the frame.
She borrowed back the memories of the men in her life, some grown,
some growing, all laughing as she sat there on the sand, watching,
waving. Borrowing a little joy.

She wiped her eyes.
She knew that she could only borrow time. She knew that she could
never really own it. She knew that memories and photographs would
fade with borrowed time and pass away.

She touched the frame again.
Her lips moved slightly as she whispered softly. She said the private,
secret things she needed to say. She gently set the photo on her desk
and returned the special time that she had borrowed.


for Casey and his Family

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Last modified: 8-19-2000

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