And after the third hour of running through your first set, your voice is hoarse and your fingers, numb... a strong reassurance that this is what you want to do for a living.
One more hour and it might be enough for tomorrow.
You pack the letter neatly into your blue planner and say a prayer... finally, its maker shall be justified.
Your phone has been silent all night... not a word... not an acknowledgment... not a new thing, though... but there are some things people should never get used to.
Another German invitation lies on top of your desk, and you wonder if another escape will help at all. Perhaps the words will make sense if you stare at them long enough... perhaps not.
Your room is a mess... dad always told me that the condition of your surroundings reflect what's in your head... he was right.
He was so right.
No comments:
Post a Comment