Your soul

Every day I wait for you to wake up. I don’t mind these hours without you. They pass, like everything else. Tell me, what’s it like in Illinois?

The weather’s fine on this side of the pond. Skies are blue. Sun hits you like a horse’s back legs whenever you step outside.

It’s been ten years since I saw you, ten days since you found me on Linkedin, and you haven’t changed a bit. When you talk about green tea and Hitchcock, I see the children we were, kicking about in the dust of a school yard.

Souls shine through eyes, it’s true, but also through words, through actions and the questions you ask. How we remember each other.

Souls rise up and cross oceans and worlds. I wouldn’t know your face anymore, couldn’t pick you out from a crowd. But I’d never forget your quick wit. The way your eyes widen when you understand something. How your laugh gurgled up from the back of your throat.

Those are the sounds of a soul.

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