Arrival

When a good old friend lands from the land of milk and honey, the pack comes in as if trying to suffice a grand reunion. “Hi, Hello! How have you been?” and “Golly, you’ve gone so thin! What have you been up to?” were simple phrases I could not miss. Of course, I wasn’t present at all times this cluster would meet. I was in demand for school and more so, my competition in trying to get into the media industry.

We shared giggles and laughter as we dug in to our late afternoon snack. Flashbacks came and more stories surfaced. Who wouldn’t want to talk about more than year of absence from the city of birth? The endless chatter seemed to have flown off the window as time passed.

Looking at these individuals who are now posing to become professionals, I tell myself what a shame it has been. Being so privileged to be in the same city, we barely meet. We tell ourselves we’re busy or it’s time to move on. Now that a colleague arrived we all gather as if we were still in the same room where we used to sit.

True, I have missed sitting with these guys. But what is more chatter than spending moments together. We should have, but we didn’t. The reality of being busy scares me into forgetting where we got hold of each other. Give me five years more and we’ll be landing on different ports, missing each other. When we all come back for our own arrivals, the pack will meet again. Privileged abused, shame.