The Fabric of Time

I like the feel of linen shirts. I like the look, too. Come summer I vow not to be caught dead in anything but linen.

Brown, beige, off white but never white, linen brushes against you like the hand of a beautiful woman passing by you in the crowd with the ferris wheel circling the sun and the barkers calling after you, wistfully and hopeful. You turn and she's gone but captured in your mind's eye, for a split second, is the image of beauty and perfection and lazy afternoons spent wandering the grounds with a dollar in your hand.

Or maybe it's the middle of the afternoon and you'll languidly turn and see yourself caught in the reflection of the mirror and wonder, out loud, 'when will this humidity break' without wanting it to and decide, then and there, to stop moving-not to keep the heat at bay but because if you don't move a muscle the world will stop spinning and tomorrow will never catch today. You'll look out onto the lawns and laugh at the spectacle of the servants trying to lose at croquet while surreptitiously taking time-outs under the banyans nodding to each other, silently communicating that, 'if it's not perfect, at least its not bad' and a smile will come to your lips until you remember you've forgotten to order the lamb.

Or maybe you'll break the silence of a long afternoon by talking too loudly and pick the table by the door, the one under the fan that does nothing to alleviate the heat and order a round of drinks, gin with lemon and a mint leaf and ask if the juke box works wondering if they have anything lively, like Brubek or is it time, already, to listen to some Chet Baker and that sad smile of a trumpet he played until he jumped from that hotel window in Paris. The melancholy turns to rain and suddenly a hammock is all that will ease you from the late afternoon into the soft and cool evenings that come early this close to the equator.

Maybe its not the feel or the look I like but the memories caught in every strand, woven in and weaving out of my mind looking for an identity and finding only contentment and solace in something as comfortable as the day is long. Yeah, that's it.