~ Late For Lunch ~

Leonard entered the room - it was already 12 o' clock - and Virginia was still at her desk, writing down something that he was completely unaware of and looking around, without ever realizing his presence. She was focused, he noticed. But still, it was lunch time already and she couldn't get late, or else she wouldn't take her medication on time. Suddenly, a slight concern embraced Leonard, so he came over to Virginia, briefly touching her shoulder.

"What are you doing?", he mumbled, almost whispering.

"Writing my novel…", she answered.

Leonard got surprised. His wife didn't write since last spring because, quoting her, she wasn't feeling inspired enough. He grinned, stepping away.

"Well, it's lunch time. You should go downstairs.", he said, reaching the exit door.

"I'm going. Just need one more minute."

He stopped by the italian vase near the door. He kept looking at her, quiet, as she continued to write. It was always like that, when she was writing: she created that impenetrable "wall" around her that prevented everyone from bothering her. It had been awhile, he thought. He kind of missed it, to be honest. She've never been a smiley woman - for the way she was raised -, but when she was writing, she had that mysterious glow in her eyes; that little dimple around her shy and instantaneous smile.

"I'll wait for you then"

Leonard went downstairs slowly and sited at the kitchen table. He put his napkin on his lap and laced his fingers. He kept completely silent and patient, as the hours passed by. Soon he realized that Virginia wouldn't come for lunch - somehow, he already suspected it, before. But he didn't get mad or disappointed at her; never. In fact, he couldn't be prouder. She was writing again, after all that time.
She was finally herself again.