"In life, we form bonds and relationships with those who've never experienced themselves in all seasons of life-at their highest and lowest points, in grief and sadness, happiness and anger. We expect people to know themselves coming into our lives...
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Sayori lazily reclined back in her rolling chair, rubbing her fingers over her forehead and then her temples. She sat listening to her directors on the conference call that she was currently on--or at least she was trying to. She was far too engrossed in her thoughts about Imaan, to worry about what her directors were blabbing about.
It had been a few weeks since Imaan left for work, and to say that his presence was heavily missed was an understatement. However, there was another vexing side of her that was growing weary of not being able to speak with him whenever she wanted. She tried to use discernment in the situation, keeping in mind that he didn't have service most of the time.
Even then when she was able to speak with him, the energy felt off. She believed that she was overreacting and stuck in her head, but the actions that he displayed whenever they spoke, left a bad taste in her mouth. Their conversations were nothing short of Imaan vaguely telling her about his day and then simply listening to her vent about whatever.
Yet, when Sayori begins to talk, pausing in between for his response, she would never receive one as he always fell asleep on her. This was beginning to irritate her as she felt like she wasn't keeping his attention.
"Sayori," Her director called out to her, but it fell on deaf ears, "Sayori? Are you still there?"
"Yes, sir," Sayori scrambled, "I'm still here. The connection wasn't working." She grimaced at her lie.
After acknowledging her and revisiting the protocols, it wasn't long before the conference call ended. Closing her laptop, Sayori rested against her office chair and continued to rub her temples. Her mood had spiraled—it was as if she was becoming more agitated as the minutes passed her by.
"Mocha," She heard, as she lifted her head, "Hi, my love."
"Hi, Tali," Sayori gave a small smile, as Talia raised her eyebrows and closed the door behind herself.
"I knew your lunch break was nearing, so I decided to take you out to lunch," Talia smiled, not able to ignore the somber atmosphere, "What's the matter, Mocha?"
If anyone knew Sayori better than herself, it would be Talia—and she could sense that something was bothering Sayori. There was a negative energy exuding from her friend, and it was beginning to make her uncomfortable.
"I don't want to talk about it here," Sayori sighed, swallowing the lump in her throat, "I don't want to talk about it at all, but I know I won't be able to escape my thoughts."
"Okay, love," Talia nodded, wrapping her arms around Sayori, "We can talk about it over lunch. I know you haven't eaten, yet," She rolled her eyes, as she moved aside to let Sayori rise from her chair.
"You're loud and wrong, Mama," Sayori said, as they headed out of the door, "I had a banana!"
"When? At six o'clock this morning, Mocha?" Talia laughed, "That ain't a meal. That's a damn snack."
