The Receptionist

I see her every day, walking to work in her careful frock, her small cardigan or coat, according to the weather. Mid-heel courts, neat bag. She is on time and walks smartly. She is to be trusted with the office accounts. If I don’t see her, it is me running late. Caught in traffic, or delayed by school children dawdling on the road. You could set a clock by her. Today she has a furled umbrella against the prospect of rain.

rain on the windscreen
the umbrella I left
lying on my bed

Julie Thorndyke

First published  Haibun Today Volume 6, Number 2, June 2012

© Julie Thorndyke 2015. All rights reserved.

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