2 left feet.

I could not resist and threw my head back in laughter (as much as one can throw their head back when its already on a pillow).

At the awkardness of the conversation and the muchness of tip toeing.

Not a question of articulation on either side of the line but rather a strange case of "desire of presence vs lack of topic" , the simple fact that neither could find an appropriate rhythm and mostly in part due to the tiredness of everyone.

Even as I reflect on the issue another quiet voice in my mind turns my attention to a scene.

On a sweeping hill top the voice takes me, to view from high a huge city awaking from its morning slumber.

It looks like a typical monday.

The majestic walls of grand palaces rise to the skies, the bustle of the markets noisy as the folk trade and barter.

Livestock is driven through narrow alleyways even as the chaos of the merchent sector fires the economy of the city with the clanking of coins and the rising of fists and palms.

My eyes survey this scene, noting darker aspects of the city in juxtaposition with the beauty of the grand.

And the little voice says, Ah, and so you see, it is the everydays that build an empire. And every aspect is precious. For what would a city be, if it was all castles and palaces?

So I nod my head in agreement, and send a silent apology to the lemon that sits on my desk.