I stare out at the cars bustling, the light is gently fading. And though its a little too early, begun on my ice cold to end off beads of sweat and the warm still air. From my balcony I stare out, and there is no one else on the sidewalk or down the street, they're all headed in for supper. Yet there I was seated just like every Saturday for the length of my adult life watching and waiting.

Maybe I sat there at my teak armchair, feet propped up on the rusted railing hoping that today was when he'll walk up our driveway. Hoping that today unlike the week before this, that my monotony would be broken and that it would all be different.

Nanna always said that I should do something more useful with my time, than siting around wasting my life away.

The drone of the traffic is broken by


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when i want to remind myself about sometime important, I often go to great pains to make it not literal. But this is just silly, I don't know where I am going with this.