Lingering

March 2, 2015
Day 306

As my recent illness is still lingering, it seemed a fitting topic.  What else...lingers?

A smell can linger long after a meal is prepared: bacon, toast, tuna, and really all types of fish.  Likewise, the smell of a friend's cologne might linger.  We can smell it on our couch cushions after they've left, or recall their presence simply by walking through the room.

A memory can linger much the same way, as if it's floating in the air, waiting for us to pass through it.  We don't always know why a memory appears to begin with, but when it lingers, we muse on it for as long as it stays with us.

A mist lingers, as does a cloud.  Long after a system runs through or a fire is put out, a cloud sticks around, stretching its arms out wide across the area.

A guest often lingers in my home.  It could be at the end of a celebration or just someone lingering over the dessert selection, but I'll notice how he or she seems to hover longer than expected.

And yes, an illness can linger too.  Whatever I'm dealing with now, a long, drawn-out flu, it would seem, is showing no signs of leaving just yet.  It's lingering like a smell, or a memory, or a cloud, or a guest: just sitting here with no clear notion of when it's going to leave. 

Notions--yes, they linger too, as do philosophies and judgments and ideas.  All this lingering, everywhere I look.  So lest I be accused of lingering myself, I'll end it right here.

Or here.

Or maybe here.

Or over there, or up there, or perhaps...

down here.

Soon though, I'm sure.

Going,

going,

g o n e . . .