One morning this week I managed to be the girl that was, but not.
I slumped into my train-seat without knowing how I got there. I emptied a coffee cup without recollection of lifting it to my lips. I stared intently out the window seeing nothing but floating contemplations against an urban stream of white noise.
Upon a very short-lived return to entirety, I realised the canvas of my ruminations was actually a large rainbow that had followed my illusive journey since I’d boarded the train. I apologetically took a photograph to make up for my ignorance, after which, funnily enough, the rainbow adhered itself to the running stream and disappeared from sight.
The timing was suspect and if it wasn’t for the evidence, I would’ve wondered if it was just like me that morning: the rainbow that was, but not.
