He Thought

He picked at the fluff that had collected on his shirt,
it amazed him how this shirt would collect anything it touched.
Rolling it between his fingers he dropped it to the floor,
unsure why, as he hated the floor being dirty.
He looked around the room,
somewhat proud,
but very happy with this place;
it was a great feeling –
being here

He glanced down at his feet
sure it was time he should cut his nails.
His feet were getting dry and he had always promised himself
that he wouldn’t let his feet turn out
the way so many 50 year olds do;
white and cracked too many years of walking…
But then again,
if you don’t walk, how would you get there?

He looked at the clock and thought that he was wasting time,
but then couldn’t think of anything to do.
When he had no time, there were too many things, now,
they had escaped him
and the ones he did think of he couldn’t be bothered starting
or finishing, which ever the case was.
So he poured himself a glass of milk
and drank it slowly as he looked once again around the room.

‘I guess I should vacuum’ he thought
remembering the fluff he had dropped
not quite sure what else could be on the floor.
He set the glass down, it was half empty
but wait, he stopped and looked at it again…
it was only half empty because he was halfway through emptying it.
Now he saw it set against the room he knew it was half full.
He smiled at that thought
"half full"
and he knew the other half would be home soon
his smile grew at that thought
"other half"
so he went and got the vacuum cleaner;
better get this out of the way.

Once that was done, he went and opened the windows,
he always liked a light breeze,
though something caught his eye as he was unlatching the window;
the way the sunlight fell on the trees.
From here they looked like trees from a model railway set
and the patches of light rippled slowly over the green.
He loved that.
The way the clouds cast such large shadows
that when you’re under them you cant tell you just think
it’s cloudy all over,
but from here, he could see the shadows creeping
silently over those houses;
the people inside believing it’s cloudy out.

Then it clicked, ‘I was here to open the window.’
He knew his mind could wonder, and it normally didn’t bother him
but it did now, with all the things he had to achieve…
oh, that’s right
‘I’ve got nothing to do’
he went and picked up his glass
and walked across to the couch where he sat down,
sure now more then ever that he liked it.
They had only bought it a few days ago
and he was really happy with their purchase.
He looked deep into his glass
seeing if he could analyse the make up of the white liquid.
It looking much thicker then it was,
it made him think of ice cream.

He looked up, glanced out the window and around the room
something was missing…
He got up and walked to the cabinet where their CDs were.
Music was often the most forgotten thread of any experience
and he loved to experience everything to the full,
and to do that, it needed a soundtrack.
"It’s the soundtrack to our lives,” he thought,
a quote from a movie,
his own reason for craving music.

He scanned the titles, not sure what he felt like,
far too many to choose from
and nowhere near enough at the same time.
But there were so many here he loved surely he could fine one.
He saw the name at the end of the row
and she said ‘I know you, I’ll sing for you’
and knew she was perfect.
Even the things that annoyed him on the album made her perfect.
He pressed play with a sense of relief
and went and sat on the floor, leaning against the couch.
This was it…

‘This scene is complete,’ he thought, ‘it would be perfect.
The camera would come up to the building
and find me through the window.
Then it would seem to come right through the glass
and the music would get louder,
as I sit here staring at the TV even though it’s switched off,
the music hinting at how I am feeling.
I would then pull out some paper and start writing,
and when I was finished I’d fold it away just in time,
before he gets home.’

With that thought he got out a piece of paper,
holding the pencil loosely, not quite sure what he was going to write
he always did this,
just looked at the paper till something came to mind,
but then he got lost in his thoughts once again,
and without knowing wrote on one corner of the paper.
Then he woke up from his day dream and looked down…
"I love him" printed messily on the otherwise blank paper.
He smiled.
"I Love Him"

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