In eighteen years, I’ve moved fourteen times. Some of the moves have been short, cross-town ventures, but many have been big moves from one part of the country to the other. There is always a sense of not-knowing that lingers in the air at the close of every old apartment door, every old cubical desk…
Tag: memories
a happy life
Sometimes he sneaks up on me. His memory greets me like a gentle shoulder tap or a whisper in my ear. Maybe it’s the sound of his laugh or the way he called me “darlin’.” I feel him wash over me. It’s warm…and melancholy. We were never exactly a couple, but we were certainly tied…
Musings & Notions 