Why do you pause?

She asks me quietly.

 

I notice the change.

The questions are precise,

 but a touch of compassion has grown.

"Anne?  Could we please have a couple of cups of hot chocolate?

  Maybe a cookie?"

A raised eyebrow is my initial answer,

 and my face gives the response.

Julian and Marion pull up chairs to the table,

  and I restrain from lowering my head.

Anne pats me on the shoulder while bringing out a tray.

Four sets of eyes focus on me,

 and I wonder if I should run.

Noticing Anne is holding back my cookie,

 I sigh.

Here we go again.

"Stories always reach a time of quiet."

  Someone kicks me under the table,

   and I think it might have been Julian.

Bit out of character,

 but I get the hint.

This is when I notice there are six cups.

 Manatua takes a seat beside me.

I am truly doomed.

Time to stretch my wings.

"The quiet is because of the story,

   and so is the pause.

You wait for a moment,

 and listen.

Hearing the words,

 still you wait.

It gives you a chance to hear words of understanding."

Manatua takes my hand under the table,

  taps on my fingers,

    letting me know to continue.

"A story is only a memory seen through different eyes.

  Telling the story brings back the memories.

    You see a story again.

  It is still happening before your eyes."

I stop,

 and shake my head.

"You remember the stories?"

Manatua takes a sip of chocolate,

 and answers.

"Of course he does.  Stories and memories are intertwined .

  The stories add a bit more color.

    A touch of extra emotion."

Anne stands up,

 and while walking by,

  slaps me on the back of the head.

Muttering under her voice,

 one meant to be heard,

"Stories always tend to be overly dramatic."

Doomed I say.