Project

She appears in the door like the months apart had never happened. You know so well the curve of her smirk, the soft way each last consonant lingers in her mouth as though each sentence she says makes itself thoughtful. We wax poetic, laugh too loud into the wooden walls and order more rounds of wine, west village restaurants always magically small enough to know your every whisper but large enough to contain them forever. I think I need to shake things up, she says, and you adore the morsels of adventure slipping off her tongue. The Universe conspires to launch you into orbit, it's leaving virtual pennies for you to pick up, it's winking at you through the diamonds of your friendships and you see it now, you feel it vibrate just behind your eyelids. Here are the fruits of your labor,  and they are not what you thought they would be, isn't that what all the wise ones always said?

The journey is the goal. 

Every day you win.