post-haste

he and i have different interests. we are interested in different things.

i wait for the week-end to lay my ideas out on the bed.

i am careful not to let them touch.

they are folded and folded in, and have been stored in different sized boxes, one on top of the next, for so long a few have yellowed, and others smell aged.

i look at them now, some still inside their packages.

it reminds me that i have a couple of things waiting for my collection at the post-office. i deliberately did not answer the door when the postman arrived to deliver them, thinking

what if i wait? what if i

wait. when the doorbell rings i will be taken from this thought and will move quickly to repackallmyideasbackintotheirboxes. back into storage in the cupboard.

i do not have time to stack them neatly now, i will return later to carefully reposition them, one on top of the next.

in such a hurry i will not notice that as i collect my ideas i also accidentally gather the decisions we make, differently in our own time.