Picking Up

Written by Ilana Weinstein

I slipped into the car and

it was like nothing

 had changed.

Like we had seen each

other yesterday,

and had forgotten to

share a story or two,

but we spoke as if

the two different time

zones we’d been in

meant nothing.

There are very few of

these rare friends.

Hours,

days,

weeks,

months

go by,

and suddenly they

pick you up at the

airport and you

pick right back

up where you

left off.

---

Photographer Unknown