solitary

This morning I am alone. The office is open, the phones are ringing and the emails wash in as on every other day but for a change I'm here by myself. It is pleasant, to sit quietly working. I feel a soft calm in my fingers as they write, each word neater, each sentence given more thought. I move with no rush, and in my head I'm purring, little shivers down my spine.

The sun is streaming through the windows behind me, lighting up the white walls and throwing shadows that move and flicker. There is the gentle hum of everyday from the cafe along the corridor, occasional notes of the radio and laughs of conversation. People come in, and I smile and answer, unhurried.

To be this solitary every day would be lonley, but once in a while it is a pleasure to be enjoyed. This afternoon the bustle will be back to normal, with a Christmas Quiz, sticky mulled wine and too-sweet mince pies but this morning I am serene.