Tag Archives: Memory


Perceptions form stale memories, which feed anticipation, expectations. The lumbering machine of time grinds on, stamping out reality.

Through the bars of the rusted gate, a garden awaits, choked with weeds. The children are gone. Our play structure verily vanished. Long evaporated echoes of shrill shouts. The stones tell no tales. Silent and damp. Forgotten. Continue reading Rust

After the Prom

Time moves erratically. At points so swift, we lose our way in the moment, a ephemeral blur. At others, it eddies and curls, babbling and rippling, casting echoes across a lifetime.

That night after the prom, son, you brought your date, Lucy, into our diner—your faces glowed. Together you created a sense of wonder, hope, happiness. Time bent back, stilled around an old, forgettable counter. Continue reading After the Prom