We met in that careless synchronicity wizards know. Car seat between us, his handsome young face alit. Trading secrets that silver-haired grannies like me hold, but in 30,000 rides, he’d seen the way of Tao.
I told him I lived on a lake.
His dream was to leave the windy city of his birth and open his heart to the waves, the birds, the peace.
He said, “I could live with someone older, do the chores, relax.”
I thought what he was flirting with was the incantation, as wizards do.
“I meditate,” he confided, so we both know there are moments caught between heartbeats where we meet. Strangers no longer, we waved our wands to solve the planet’s woes, just so.
By Departures, we tarried a spell until airport security prevailed. Another wave, he drove away. I glanced, curious, into the mirrored door.
Flash fiction in 144 words written for the dverse poets prompt: prosery between heartbeats using the line “there are moments caught between heart-beats.”
Featured image using Lunapic‘s Van Gogh filter on a recent photo.