Visits:Tea with Marcie

I had a little visit that I sorely needed.

I was inexplicably sitting at the Kensington Coffee Company in my slippers. I knew it was likely okay to do so, but I also knew it was not what I might choose, myself, to do.

I was also drinking tea. I noticed another cup across from me and I recognized the burnt red shade Marcie had always work to work.

It was the same, unmeasurable and unquantifiable presence I could not predict which washed over me next, and I knew by this that it was real. A visit.

I started straightening my clothes out, checked my face in the mirror and cleared my throat. As I started to roll up my sleeves, I felt hands on my shoulders and the light touch of a kiss on my neck.

"Oh, sweetie," she said, her lipstick and perfume (Fendi) mixing in my nostrils. "Don't worry about it, you look fine."

She sat and put her purse back down under her chair and smiled with that mischievous grin she had perfected.

She was beautiful, as if she could be anything less. But all her earthly charms, her glowing hair back-lit in the sun, her perfect skin and blue, blue eyes, all of them were on full display.

"I just had to come by and have you out for some tea," she said. "I love you."

She got up, leaned down and kissed my cheek and smiled. "I have to get back to work, but I will see you soon."

I don't know what her work might be. I do know I look forward to another visit. I'll keep you informed.

F.