Quondam

July 2014
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That’s what it was.

If you have ever come to read and love my words, know that you have touched me.

Please know that.

I am, as always, short on plans and strategies.

I am off to write in private for a while . . . to write for me and for my daughters.

Perhaps I will someday have something to once again share with you.

Perhaps.

That last post . . . Stitching

Did that not feel like goodbye?

Because that’s what it was.

Kris

 

 

 

    Stitching

    There was once a woman of alone who died, and those who were left to tend to the details of her absence stood over her almost nude body as their attention was directed by a stranger, “What do you know about this?”

    All they knew was the same puzzlement as the one who had …Stitching

    Whatevs . . .

    Texts without much context . . .

    Me: I wish I was there at this moment. Not the whole trip, mind you. Just this moment.

    She: Did you see?

    Me: Yes, I watched the u-stream. I love you so much. So proud of you.

    She: I came really close.

    Me: I saw!

    She: If …Whatevs . . .

    Scraped silence

    He saw it shimmer in the late afternoon sun as its enormity slipped away, saw the silver flat-bounced sunburst float in his rear-view mirror for an instant, had an eerie surreal sense of the impossible before the splintering and the shattering and the sparkling brought home the truth of the more than possible.

    It …Scraped silence

    Tourniquet of hope

    She gathers up a few loose strands of hair and spins them around her finger. She winds the hair gently at first, delighting in the softness of its glossy caramel shine, but then more tightly, so that the flesh of her finger swells in the gaps of imprisonment. Staring down at her finger, she …Tourniquet of hope