The Joy of Alone


10009813_1475881882626096_2055759745_nThe day was gloomy and rainy, reflecting the weariness that she felt in her very bones. All week long, it had been go, go, go. Meetings and lessons, get-togethers and dinners. People. All week: people. Finally, it was today. She stepped up to the window, asking for one ticket to the movie. The attendant might have looked at her a little askance but, if they did, she didn’t notice or at least affected not to. She garnered herself a small popcorn and a drink, inhaling the warm buttery smell of the theatre. It was smell that never failed to take her back to childhood when this was an unforeseen treat: going to the movies. Strolling through the multiplex, she made her way to the screening room where her chosen movie was showing. Stepping into the already semi darkness, she mounted the stairs to the very top row of high-backed, plush seats, scooting down the row until she was centered with the giant screen. The sweet spot.

Finally satisfied, she lowered herself down in her seat, stowing her bag,  drink, and snack, and making herself as comfortable in her temporary little nest as she could, padding it with the soft of her coat. And then, at last, she slouched in the chair, exhaling a heavy siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh. Alone. It was early, the theatre was practically empty, and she was alone. And the only word she would use to describe it?

Joyous.

As the theatre darkened and her favorite part of the movie-going experience (the previews) began, she snuggled down into her seat, grabbed her popcorn, and inhaled its nostalgic scent once more. This. This was joy. If just for these moments. Just…being alone.

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