Drift 050—The Empty Chair

The chair beside the window normally faces north. It’s my watch over the orchard.

This morning it was still turned toward the valley.

I do not remember leaving it that way.

I suppose I was expecting company. That happens more often than I care to admit.

A room keeps evidence of where our thoughts have been.

The creek was louder than usual after last night’s rain.

So I sat back down.

Some places do not ask you to return.

They simply remain worth returning to.

Did something stay with you?