A Voice

voice_by_zephy0

(Credit: zephy0 on DeviantArt)

I never understood what she said, but I enjoyed listening to her voice.

Like a live thing, her voice fluttered around the room, bouncing off the windows, or sometimes it settled, tenderly enfolding me in its wings.

When we sat on the sofa, drinking hot cocoa, her voice rose and fell, only stopping when she ate a marshmallow. She never drank the cocoa.

I listened, pushing my marshmallows deeper into the drink and licking my fingers. My cup grew empty as she filled my mind with imagined meanings.

One day, she called me, and the next, her house was empty.

Sometimes I hear her in my dreams; I still don’t understand her words, but when I wake up, I’m bursting with butterflies.

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3 Comments

  1. I’ve met women like that. They’re such wonderful gifts. 😀

    Reply

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