The upper deck is slightly damp and it's still misting outside. It looks like the sky might be breaking, which is good because the last thing I want today is another unusable Sunday. I start gathering the table setting for breakfast on the deck, place mats, folks, butter, and so forth. Strawberries are washed and the last few blueberry pancakes are almost finished. Maybe a mimosa would be perfect with breakfast today but I'm out of champagne so my regular weekend coffee and Irish Cream will have to do. The radio plays Jimmy Buffet's "Tin Cup Chalice". I quietly sing along, "I wanna go back...to the islands" while the tears fill up the corner of my eyes. I push them back while I finish putting the food on the table, in a haze. My mind is stuck, once again, in this place between two cities and I'm not even living in one of them, at least not in the present moment. I was there before and I'll have it back again. This is only temporary I remind myself about five times over.
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