Posted by: syncopated1 | November 17, 2011

Puzzle in a Box

“You know you and I are like this puzzle?” I said, looking at her across the table.

“How so?” She asked with a smile. I gazed at her before continuing; she sat at her own table at least a thousand miles away, working on the same puzzle. She picked up a piece and glanced back at the Skype camera, her large blue eyes sparkled with pleasure.

“Well,” I went on, “You and I have this image of what we might be together. Much like the top of the box to the puzzle. The picture is brightly detailed, and very clear. It unfolds before us like a beautiful dream.

Upon opening the box though, the reality of our current circumstances appears. The pieces lie in a pile of cacophony; jumbled and scrambled. These pieces make no sense, not in color, size or shape. We vaguely recognize some of it, but not easily.

Still,” I continued, “with patience and tenacity, we can sort through this mess.”

She leaned forward on her elbows and looked directly at me through the camera, “You know, I like that idea: we go together like a puzzle in a box. What we have now is crazy and unintelligible, but just like this puzzle, it is securely apparent that one day our pieces will blend together into one image as they were intended.”


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