The Perfect Comeback

To get back to something that has been tucked away for a very long time is hard. In fact, it's easier just to procrastinate. The longer you wait, the more time there is for Fear to build up.

And the longer you wait, the more you wish for that 'comeback' to be flawless. You wait then, only because you have to plan perfection.

I waited to write the perfect piece. Bhutto's assassination came, and went. The New Year arrived and it is now just another year. The US Presidential Elections rampage on. But none of it was perfect.

I was in a friend's car this afternoon, exhausted from yet another interview with yet another dream company. It was then that I saw it. As I sat there, bumping along the bumpy roads, there was a little girl sitting behind her father on a motorbike. She was a frail, sweet looking thing. She turned her head, looked at me and smiled. It was an innocent little giggle, speaking of what she was about to do next. Looking ahead, she left her father's waist and let her hands fly beside her as the bike rode ahead. So carefree a sight I have never seen. She was a delicate bird, flying where the wind blew.

She was perfect.