For Lisa: May the good things in life never pass you by Emily

In Time

In every day there is a single moment that seems to surpass time; the moment before the sun and beyond the stars, between dark and dawn, when the children and adults alike still cling to their own delicate dreams and complete silence graces the air. I was curled up by the window, watching the mist rise on the river outside it. Stillness enveloped me and time froze, leaving me to enjoy the solitude and clarity that lasted an instant, but fulfilled an eternity. Slowly Earth resumed turning, ever in apathy of the torment and pleasure of her offspring. No mind could fathom the depth of that silence, the tranquility that closes and simultaneously heralds each day. Intricacy and simplicity combined to form a mystery that no man could solve…

I yawned, rising from my post and arching my back in the routine morning stretch. The clock ticked annoyingly, seemingly deafening after the enigmatic phenomenon that I had just heard, or rather, not heard. Wandering into the living room, I looked disdainfully at the dog, Molly, who was sleeping peacefully on the hearth. Having never been consulted before the choice to obtain a dog had been made; I always thought it rather unfair that something so stupid could receive such high praise in the household. After I had finished glaring at Molly (who remained in complete obliviousness) I made myself comfortable on the couch and settled down for a light nap before the usual surge of activity began.

A few hours passed before life began to flow through the veins of the other resident of the establishment, a dark haired artist called Grace. I opened my eyes and said hello with a nod just as she was coming down the stairs. Molly's greeting, of course, was much less subtle and the large black monstrosity was soon on her feet, barking rudely. Grace didn't seem to mind Molly's loud salutation and even scratched her ears, which was more than I thought the dog deserved. I listened to the scrabbling of claws and accompanying footsteps on the hardwood floor dog and owner made their way to the kitchen for breakfast. Grace didn't even try to ask me to follow; she knew by now that I would not tolerate a dog in my presence while I ate.

Instead of following the other two, I crept up to Grace's studio and sunbathed for a while, napping lightly by the time she arrived herself. I spent the rest of the day watching the artist at work, leaving only once or twice to nibble at the sustenance set out for me when the great black brute was elsewhere. As the hours passed, I found myself wishing that I could convey to Grace in words what the moment of calmness I had experienced today had been like; sure it would inspire her beyond all measure. If only she had been awake right then. It's such a shame that people usually don't notice the wonderful things that are thrown in front of them and miss out on many simple miracles as a result. Ah well, such is life. Suddenly tired, I decided to stop thinking about it for the moment and found a comfortable sunbeam to relax in, content in the knowledge that I, at least, had seen something that no one else had.

"It's so strange," Grace mused to herself, looking affectionately at the sleeping cat whose painting she had just completed. "Patches is asleep most of the time, all of the good things in life seem to just pass her by."