Tuesday, September 2, 2008

the person on the other end of the line gibbered on and on about the usual complaints that went along with her job. she felt irritated and had to hold back, as she almost answered him in a cross manner. she reminded herself that her life, her feelings, were not his fault.  she resolved his problem and went  onto  the next scenario, always trying to extinguish the spark before it burst full flame.

there were times she wanted nothing more than to shout at the whining person on the other end of the line...listen buddy this is not life and death, the only thing that is life and death  IS life and death, however she held her tongue. after all she needed this job a lot more than this job needed her...ever aware of the noone is indispensable syndrome.

the next few phone calls were minor skirmishes, no collateral damage, no working lives lost. 

the day dragged on. she found herself again looking out the window, reflecting on the myriad of wrong turns that landed her in this predicament. no life skills/decision making gps was available and never would be.

she picked up the small, slightly scratched mirror in her desk drawer, gazing at the face gazing back at her, looking for a trace of hope and optimism in the.glimmer of her eyes. or maybe that just was her lens implant. 

she knew that in there, somewhere, the little girl who almost ceased dreaming, still had a voice that needed to be heard. 

No comments:

Followers

Blog Archive

About Me

My photo
i am older than dirt and proud of it!!!! i have managed to incorporate my eternal 60's nation spirit with the high tech 21st century world. i am an artist/writer, who dabbles in rhyme, and, sometimes, reason. my passions are my husband, who is truly the wind that ruffles my sails, animals rights, yoga, the beach, waking up in the morning. i find inspiration in too many things to list, and far too many more to remember. i have added sketching, watercolor painting, and photography to my ways of expressing joy and gratitude. from living with a chronic illness, i have learned the beauty of each day, and treat each as another sun salutation, and another chance. P.S. all painting, poems and photographs are my originals karen Lyons kalmenson