You see how the night slowly creeps over the boulder. It discolors its daily resolve to a terrified inertness. There is no change lesser than that of a metamorphosis happening. The coolness restored there is perhaps only the disdainful players to howl through the peasant sands.

I did reply to her and I was silly about it. She will most certainly not be prompt for that isn't her way but chances are she will send about a befitting reply over in a day or two. And that will be the end of it.

For her. For me, this is regular living - anxiously waiting. Only in the waiting is my life free enough to revolve around other things, and therefore I am glad for her habit of delaying.

To be fair, there is no proclamation I am waiting for. If she came out with someone significant and serious I wouldn't know how to react for I will not commit as that would be a defeat. It is only in her silliness that I can find some possibility of a seriousness within myself.