I stare into space. Panic and emptiness grip my mind, both at the same time, until I notice something out of the corner of my eye. There’s movement.
They billow softly out. They fold gently in. They flirt their way out beyond the margins. They shyly retreat inward to safety. There is a draft, a light dance of air swirling up in tiny humorous wafts, and the movement begins anew. The pair billow out. They draw in. They push life out from themselves. They draw energy and light back in.
They are drapes, dancing along the patio windows. They are drapes, dancing along the edge of life, testing the limits to what we can be, or do, or say with each other and together in the larger world. They are nothing more than drapes…daring to chase after life in the beyond. Beyond quarantine. As necessary as it is. As absolutely without excuse. And yet…Even so. They are drapes reminding us how to dream, reminding us how to breathe.
Dance out, energize within. Breathe. Grasshopper, breathe.