sheepdogowner avatar

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There were some stories that were repeated, but many were given up,
like closed suitcases left at the curb for garbage collection. They became
refuse. It was like that starting over. The hope that suitcases would no longer
be needed. That this was a fresh start, with a new language, new faces,
newness like a thin coat not warm enough in colder climate.
Perhaps there were a few names like old handshakes. Old words that kept
hearts warm like a rock in a bed, beginning to cool until it is touched. It was like that. It got dark so quick.

3 comments add one below

  • avatar

    Jim M almost 8 years ago

    Very moving collection of ideas, a bittersweet ode to the rigours of Change

  • avatar

    D.M. almost 8 years ago

    Thank you, Jim. I appreciate your comment.

  • avatar

    D.M. almost 8 years ago

    Thank you Drew! I recently saw a Hungarian film about twin boys towards the end of World War ll. It's called The Notebook. (At the end of the film, the twins separate and go out on their own.)

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