The Fog

Pathways were no more clear, the destination blurry.
Faces moved past, unrecognizable.
People belonged to the world, yet not my world.
Closest friends, dissolved.
But voices. Voices rang clearer.
Whispers deafening.
And in that dense fog, I found an intense sense of clarity.

I found my contact lens.

PS:
I recently had to go the 8 kms between my house and the eye doctor to get my eye checked up. Broken glasses. Forbidden contact lens. Invoked a lot of emotions, I must say. :D

Tiny Treasures

I am a good friend. Always have been. One of my better qualities.
How else can you explain these little notes...each one a treasure - a message to touch, inspire and evolve - that I left all over my friend's room while she was at work?