I woke up this morning with long arms.

After showering and having breakfast, I went to Izy Coffee for a cappuccino.  Lies was the barista.  She’s my friend.

I told her about my still long arms:

They’re dangling down.  It feels like my fingertips are brushing the floor.  It’s so loose, like my arms could fall off.

And things are blended at the edges – no border lines.  Your face is merging with the air.

Lies looked at me funny.  She knows that my heart is good.  But I imagined her saying What is this man talking about?

I’m pleased that I told Lies what was happening.  I trusted her not to reject me.  Later I asked if she thought I was crazy.  She said “Yes” … with a smile.

As I received my coffee, Lies said the Dutch equivalent of “Enjoy it.”  Apparently it was two words: “Geniet ervan.”  I didn’t know either.  So I sat down and grappled with Google Translate, focused on adding to my Dutch knowledge.

And just like that, my arms were short again.  Things had lines around them.

Easy come … easy go.  And I hoped easy come back again.

I’m still in Izy, writing this.  Writing takes a more gentle focus than Dutch.  And my fingers once more descend.