Resolution

They sat in a dim coffee shop. She stared at the floor, caressing a mug of tea.

"What's on your mind?" Sheila asked.

She looked up and smiled. "Nothing out of the ordinary."

"Weight of the world, then?" Sheila smiled and sipped her martini.

She chuckled so light it came out as just a breath. "You could say that." She stared out at the other patrons milling about the shop, or sitting typing at tables, or sipping bowls of milky coffee with members of the opposite sex. "I just want to write. I need to slow down. It's all just going so fast. There's always something standing in the way. I feel like I'm in a moment, then something always stands in the way."

Sheila nodded slowly. "Life comes at you fast. But you can't let it pass you by."

"I just keep getting hit with everything."

"I know." Sheila leaned in and whispered, "Try to catch some of them."

She smiled the slanted smirk she saved for flirting, when the guy said something unwittingly clever. "I have so much peace when I write," she said. "I miss it. I remember loving it. But it's gotten lost...in all this... in meetings, in studying, in budgets--"

"In worrying? In lack of control?"

Her eyes snapped up. For a moment, Sheila looked just like her mother, though she'd always reminded her of her mother: so strong and wise, with eyes that speak of her life's joys and sorrows before her mouth opens to tell you about them.

"Stop worrying."

She knew Sheila was thinking more. But she was holding back. Like her mother would.

"It's easier said than done, though," Sheila continued. She perched her elbow on the table and rested her chin on her fist.

She nodded. "I'm just scared I'll lose my craft."

"Have you ever?"

"...No. But that's not to say it can't happen."

"That's true, too," Sheila said without actually believing it. "Then make time. You prioritize your work; prioritize life so as not to make you insane."

She nodded and looked into her tea.

"Look at me."

She rose her eyes."You are who you are. Sure, life happens and you adapt, but nothing is going to change who you are. This is who you are," she tapped her sternum, nowhere near her heart, but she got the picture. "Don't lose sight of who that is."

She nodded in agreement. "I won't," she declared to herself.

"Good," she said. She drank the rest of her martini like a shot and collected her bags. "My work here is done. I'll see you next week. Call me if you need anything."

She stood and left the table, nearly bumping into a man as she turned. He glowed, it seemed, showing white teeth in a debonair smile before drawing away. Sheila threw her a wink and a smile over shoulder.

She giggled and watched Sheila walk out the door. She picked up her book, removed the mark, and, gently biting her lip, resumed where she'd left off.