she_begins_singing_to_herself fyn gula he sees the excitement upon her face like the blue sky before the sun rises on a saturday, a warm morning when the dog's water didn't freeze. and she waltzes about the house in her robe, creaking the painted plank floors, dancing with hope. all she's ever wanted is no longer a wish, but now a phone call made, directions given, and passing hours. he watches her step beside the piano. maris is playing something from rigoletto and she begins singing to herself, staring out the window to the melting snow, to her world about to change. he doesn't speak, nor does he move, afraid to break the spell, instead he sings with her under his breath, honoured by the responsibility to provide happiness. 010208 ... unhinged i heard somewhere that singing to yourself is a sign of loneliness 050321 ... tombe_seul i must be very lonely 050321 what's it to you? who go blather from