Moving moving moving - hyperactive bunny with a rather slow heart. I realise now that I probably stepped on it while on my way to this airport. It was a rainy day, remember? Shimmery ground under the wheels of your car. You were driving too fast and I got scared.
Mind, thoughts and emotions on a roller-coaster since. On the edge. I gave you my hand. Life is slippery you told me once. I replied: I know. I knew indeed - but it was already too late.
You liked it though. My confused way of thinking. Some other people over here think I just talk funny with my weird accent and my curious expressions. You knew, you, what it really meant. After all. Trains of thoughts never stopping at the same stations. Even in rush hours. Mind the gap. I might return one day. Where will you be then?
I searched and did not find anything. Four-leaf clovers don’t grow on apples as far as I have understood. The sun is probably too bright for that. It would have hurt your eyes so you’d better not come - you were right on that one I must admit.
Bon voyage were your last words.
I replied Merci.
Encore, mon amour.