The two hours of a day

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I stood in the laundry room .The air rushed from the big cypress tree and pulled at my shirt . You came to me with a smile sat down and asked me to hear your story …..I folded my shirts and you explained  how you had died twice in this most recent part of  your life  ….you were not meant to live for long  and in fact this meeting might be cut short …   ..For each and every day has just two hours an never any more . There is rarely a dawn and on occasions a dusk  . you  will wake from a deep sleep rested…you rise in the first hour  and then as the second hour draws to its end  you depleted must find  a resting place and leave this world.  you have lived like this for just  this year  your heart rests and you live…you look to the floor and kick the leaves as they creep in …you insist ” This is how I  must live,  two hours  each one  from your twenty four .”… my washing is folded and you look to the wind …  now it is today .I return. I  wait an hour … It is not your hour and I leave ….. .

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About mauricewoconnell

Maurice OConnell is a Creative based in Cornwall concentrating on Writing and Unique theatrical appearances.. He continues to imagine a world twice as exciting and dangerous than it could possibly ever be View all posts by mauricewoconnell

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