(Two papers down and only a portfolio review and a bio lab practical to go before finals start. So on a slightly brighter note...)

Swirls of brown and white mix together as the stirring goes round and round the rim of a cup. Silver against porcelain produces a spontaneous rhythm of an unknown origin. Her hand maintains a constant motion as she's staring off into nothing, the liquid eternally stirred. Loud in the background CNN is blaring information about the recent developments in the conflict between Israel and Palestine. It all goes in one ear and out the other, some thoughts subliminally stuck somewhere within, to be retrieved later when least expected. The spoon is removed and placed to the side, giving way to a moment or two of silence, save for the TV. It ebbs and flows, lingering in the air as the words boom around her. It fades into the clack clack clacking of the keys beneath her nimble fingers but she’s not even looking at them, she’s not even thinking of the thoughts that are being transmitted to the screen before her. Her mind is far away – parachutes, army boots, bicycles for two – dreaming of delicate shoes swept over paneled wood, of polyester pressed against satin, and lighted sidewalks.

Anything plain can be lovely, anything loved can be lost…

There’s a faint buzzing outside her window, the sound of grass being cut, of shrubs being groomed, streets being cleaned. It brings her back to the paper that’s waiting patiently to be written, at least for a moment of two.

Could he possibly be thinking of her at this very moment? A chair scrapes the floor above her and she hears the groan of its movement against the floorboards. It taunts her, maintaining the misgivings in her head. There’s no knock at her door, no window popping up on her screen. There’s only the groan of indifference above her as she sees all her hopes dissolving like the sugar cubes recently plunked into her coffee. She wants to talk, but has nothing to say. She’d like to grasp some sense of the situation instead of just allowing it to disintegrate like before.

Don’t try to feed me, cause I’ve been here before and I deserve a little more. I belong in the service of a king...

The gears are turning in her worried mind. She tries to rationalize, to get past the images that flood her memory banks, to focus on the tasks at hand. Her shoulders roll back and chest rises and falls as she releases a heavy sigh. The clacking resumes and things are laid to rest for the moment at least.

After winter, must come spring. Change, it comes eventually…