Ｂｒａｉｎｄｕｍｐ ＃６

I know not how to describe the life I yearn for, to put into words the sensation I pray my future grants me with.
But it comes in flashes, the life I hope to lead, and those flashes keep me hopeful all the same.

Most recently, I couldn't help but smile when I sat on the countertop in the kitchen--a surface not meant to be sat on, but who am I to obey unspoken rules when I don't obey even those that are written in ink-- and waited for water to boil.
Music played from the speaker resting beside me and I hummed along.
The flash of a little kid dancing along to the music on the floor in front of me.
I'd gently warn them to be careful around the stove top fire and they'd move away subtly before continuing their youthful, unchoreographed movements, because in that moment that is was feels right for them to do.
They'd look up at me as I jump down from the counter and pour the noodles into the pot, jumping a bit as the water jumps and bubbles at me. They'd ask- can we eat on the counter tonight?
And I'd shrug,
why not?
And we would.
And no one would tell us not to. No one would yell at the child for asking such a silly question.
No one would make that child cry for their innocence that they are in their every right to display. We'd eat on the counter that night and no one could tell us not to