Over

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.