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Unread 09-23-2014, 01:36 PM   #1
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Lana loved the early morning hours for the symphony of spring filled her soul with life and freedom as she sang to her hearts content. Such beauty had drowned the hustle and bustle of the annoying traffic in the near distance out. There was a magic that overpowered all the negativity in the air. The best seat in the house was the one situated at the kitchen table overlooking the lilac bushes that overflowed the sides of the deck. There the delightful bird feeders were abundant with incoming flights of colored wings featuring immeasurable beauty.

She could only smile at the display of such enjoyment. She found herself conversing as if she was accompanied by another soul. The chatting was fine as long as she contained herself from responding in another tone of voice. That would surely be the sign of a nice long trip in the paddy wagon to a much more summer style home in the countryside away from all civilization, as we know it today. Lana kept her conversation to a minimal although she would love to have had a lovely set of ears to share her words of interest and delightfulness. As she sat in her favorite chair in the quietness of such beauty, an incessant sound of the blasted telephone interrupted with the demand to be answered.

‘Who on earth could be calling so early on a weekend? Do people not know that weekends are alone to meditate on life in order to rejuvenate the inner spirit so one could continue to appreciate the wonders of being healthy, happy, free and alive? Hellooo!’

He spoke in a peaceful voice.

‘How may I help you?’

The silence broke into an accented response. The voice so delightfully delivered like the breeze across warm bare skin.

‘Oh Yes, hello! I was wondering if you could fit me in for a few sessions’.

The man’s voice was nervous and yet remained gentle in the most warming fashion.

‘I beg your Pardon, sir!’

‘Do you think there is any chance you and I could get together this week?’

‘Do I know you? Whom am I speaking to?’

Lana recognized the accent to be of French decent but be it far from her to be biased against foreigners. She was drawn in by the sound of his manliness. The accent was just an added pleasure and she was in no hurry to hang up right away. The bonus of any man to be calling her in such a long time and then to be attracted to the very magnetism of his masculine voice was a treasure to behold.

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