it was saturday
the busyness of the week,
that is monday through to friday
had simply finished leaving a mind buzzing vacuum.
the distraction of getting to training, getting to work, talking to clients..
it had just finished as the calendar had correctly proscribed.
surely he should be pleased.
there were things still that he could and perhaps should do
but they were not urgent and therefore could be completed later.
Later… when would that be?
when the gnawing subsided in his chest?
when the burning stasis abated?
he thought about the passage he had read in the library book:
apparently the ache of longing
could be compared to
the whining of a dog for its master.
that feeling was enough proof, the book had said.
still he couldn’t quite grasp he implications of
and he feared above all,
even more than the gnawing,
that saturdays would continue to be days of