“Where have you been all my life?” I ask my soul, my heart, my gut. It is not a small question. No hands go up. Silence. Zip. Nada.

I feel the slipperiness of the question, like a goldfish flopping in my hand.

“I mean, you know, like why don’t you make yourself known more often?”

You could cut the tension with a knife.

I am always yammering in my own ear.

I am not political, but angry words are being hurled online all day long and I can get caught up in it.

The truth stays away from bitterness, feuds and fiction.

I lean back against my office chair, full of coffee and coconut cake.

I am satisfied with my own company if my soul, my heart, my gut, do not reply.

Wait a minute….

She just showed up. Gotta get another piece of coconut cake for her.

Vicki Woodyard