One hour

Let me rest just for one hour, even if once over, all will be the same. One hour in which gather my thoughts or leave them behind, one hour of existence to reconnect with the larger life I forget so easily during the endless bustling days. Allow me one hour respite, a walk in the park, a coffee in a bar, a sunbath under the sun. Let me close my eyes and open them to beauty. Let me switch off my brain and let eyes and ears be filled with pleasant sounds and views. Sixty full minutes of peace, three thousand six hundred seconds where my heart slowly opens, and my breath reaches my limbs. If my heart was in fear, sixty minutes would be so long that my brain would explode. But sixty minutes of such peace, oh, they go so fast, like a pearl falling from a broken necklace. Like a marbled coloured shell you hold in your palm and with a twist of your wrists, it fall to the ground, breaking into small pieces, which you carefully pick from the brown earth and put them into your pockets. Then one day, the rattling pieces will call you so loud that you can’t ignore them any longer. That will be the day where one hour will be yours. One hour to piece the shell together, until you will let it fall from your palm, one more time.


Enjoying reading micro stories? Subscribe to the monthly newsletter to receive them directly in your inbox, together with news about my writing journey. You will also receive two unpublished short stories.

error: Content is protected !!