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i imagine you

She stretches out in the afternoon light like the empress of clean sheets. From another room comes the sound of music, muted and distant, soft as satin. She almost recognizes the melody, almost, can almost recall a line of the lyric. But it’s all too far away and she finds the near-familiarity of the song as comforting and pleasurable as the scent of the freshly-laundered pillowcase.

And isn’t that the way of it? Life is pleasant and sweet enough, but there is so often the hint of a greater sweetness and a deeper pleasure just off there in another room. Close enough that it can very nearly be recognized, but still too far to be sure. And really, it’s so agreeable and gratifying where you are…why spoil it?

All too soon she’ll have to rise and abdicate her three hundred thread empire of Egyptian cotton. For now she is content to stretch, turn to one side, snuggle with the pillow. Perhaps she’ll recognize the next song.

-- greg fallis

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