What would I do, if I have nothing to worry about?
Sit by a cafe, sipping down a warm and thick hot chocolate. Savouring a tangy sourdough toast with creamy scrambled eggs, sautéed mushrooms with fresh truffle shavings, wilted spinach and a generous sprinkle of toasted pine nuts. Breathing in fresh air, looking mindlessly at trees, flowers, clouds and simply anything that moves before my eyes. And when I feel like it, a well risen, moist pistachio soufflé with freshly churned vanilla bean studded ice-cream. Accompanied with lovely classical tunes, the familiar tunes that I can hum to.
Or perhaps,
Lazing by the window, staring at the night sky, counting the stars that my human eyes can see. With no agenda on the next day, or the day after, or the rest of my life. Dozing off to milky ways and shooting stars. A light scent of lavender, hugging my knees, wondering which star belongs to me. Not caring if I have to please anyone, just my very own tired soul.
Maybe,
Stepping into an empty concert hall, picking any seat I like. A soloist, playing just for me. My favourite songs, weaved into a simple symphony. Spending the evening just swinging along. No words needed. No comments. No interruptions.
Moments turn into memories, memories into history, history into lessons, lessons into stories. Those untold stories.
