Reading The Leaves
The banana leaf deepens from a vivacious jade to a rich earthy cadmium green - almost black against the warm inviting glow of the afternoon sun. Like a cat for a nap, I find a warm spot beneath the leaves’ embrace to read. Reading is fundamentally a solitary activity. It’s my alibi for the missed calls and the unanswered texts. It’s my purpose when I’m aimless. It’s my distraction when i I need a break. With my legs crossed, my arm rested, my body relaxed, I make good on my obligation to myself.
The banana leaf deepens from a vivacious jade to a rich earthy cadmium green - almost black against the warm inviting glow of the afternoon sun. Like a cat for a nap, I find a warm spot beneath the leaves’ embrace to read. Reading is fundamentally a solitary activity. It’s my alibi for the missed calls and the unanswered texts. It’s my purpose when I’m aimless. It’s my distraction when i I need a break. With my legs crossed, my arm rested, my body relaxed, I make good on my obligation to myself.
The banana leaf deepens from a vivacious jade to a rich earthy cadmium green - almost black against the warm inviting glow of the afternoon sun. Like a cat for a nap, I find a warm spot beneath the leaves’ embrace to read. Reading is fundamentally a solitary activity. It’s my alibi for the missed calls and the unanswered texts. It’s my purpose when I’m aimless. It’s my distraction when i I need a break. With my legs crossed, my arm rested, my body relaxed, I make good on my obligation to myself.