Postcard: Writing

We're holding our breaths at the moment, one of those special times. We thought baby was coming this month, more than a hunch! But alas, it is not to be, this month. These days I am reminded of those long days, hours and minutes I spent waiting to go to Paris, a young woman in love. Waiting for the day of my flight was like starving to death! And when I arrived on the station platform in Paris, having spent the night in London on the way, the moment fell like a drop of water.

A kiss that seemed numbed by emotion, man's hand that takes my bag, that moment was so much bigger than me. It tumbles down and falls away. We smile (did we smile?) and walk along the platform under the arches in the Gare du Nord leaving the moment to part like the sea on either side of us. We left it in the station. Hot dry hands, rainy day. Only when I am inside looking at the pattern stamped into the yellow peeling wallpaper in his studio does a moment come straight to me in a flash, making my eyes sting with joy. One of the many we will share.

Now that it's sure we have at least another month to wait, the emotions are expanding to fill the gap, and there's so much more to think about. I am taking advantage of this kind of nouvelle vague French film kind of drawn out moment ticking by experience and its ability to let me observe - best to write for a few days. I hope you don't mind!