thump. thump. It was my heartbeat, swaying back and forth with the rattan rocking chair, I was knitting the scarf that was half-done, I had not had the time, soul, and heart to pour out my feelings into this embroidery which was decades old.
“What if…” I uttered under my breath, “I get to see him once more, for just a moment.” giggling away with this perennial absurd thought. Stitches by stitches, my tremulous hands weaved a piece of my unfinished art.
Knock. “Who…?” Kno, kn, kno, knock, knock. knock.
“John…” my voice was tinged with uncertainty.
“John who?” he interjected me with the peculiar jesty tone, only he possessed it, deep, droning with humour.
I got out from my seat, leapt to the door, flung it open, seeing him standing singularly before me. His ebony muscles, unkempt hair, loosed complexion, radiating with his peculiar fun demeanor. He opened his arms as a welcome for me to fall into his embrace. I pulled him into me, but only thin air brushed past me.
Tears filled into my eyes, deluging the sudden extraction of a miracle miraculously performed in front of my very eyes, pulling away a precious yearned moment of mine.