There must be a reason, a valid one, as to why afternoons make me feel restless.
The fact that the day is ending, but really hasn’t, is so disconcerting.
I’m fidgety and I feel like this veil of discomfort won’t lift anytime soon.
Then suddenly, evening walks in and makes me believe that perhaps, there is a small chance things will be fine.
Maybe my friend’s slightly disoriented heart is finally on the right path. And even though she doesn’t believe it, her evening is coming soon.
Perhaps the sinking feeling I get, thinking about returning to the mundane activities of life is what I need to push me to seek better things.
Perhaps afternoons aren’t so bad after all.
When the silence is loud and the only sound around you is the rut rut of your bedroom fan,
When the distant chirping of a bird suddenly quietens down as if giving you space to ponder over life… maybe then you’ll realise that it is time to move on to the next phase of life… whatever it is, where ever it is.
Afternoons are necessary. Absolutely necessary.
They teach you to value evenings.