10 Minutes

Open air. A new colleague. And the conversations began. From past locations to present. From a burning flame at the horizon to the unending black sky above. From freedom to write to the space yearned to that loved sloth within us. From the love to travel to substance knowledge to movies, directors and visions. And the new colleague did not seem new anymore. Back to my cubicle and a note awaited me. One that I was waiting for eons. And it came with a casual nonchalance, but hit me. The right way. A few notes were exchanged. We spoke about the sea. The calm and the waves. Then the puritans walked in as subjects. The waves played angels. And took away one of its kind. Goodnight was implied. But the conversation had just begun…