Eliana Chow

The flies are fat.

You’re losing your appetite.

The big kids are exploring the city on a Friday night.

You’re holed up in the library’s basement in a frenzied attempt to catch up on studying, even though that’s all you’ve been doing for the past five hours.

The sun is shining.

Your heart feels cloudy and heavy with rain.

“I’m just staying here.”

No, wait. This is home.

Maybe you’ll go away for a little while. Take a walk, catch a plane, hail a cab, run. You’ll escape. You’ll take your mind off reality and settle into the past, just for a little while.

Perhaps when you return you’ll discover a new vigor.

You pray for that.

And He hears.