When the world outside is still and dark, and a hint of
frost is falling from the frigid mist, and there are no immediate pleasures or
diversions to be found in a house just a little too cold to be called
comfortable, my thoughts creep back to summer days of old when a very special
young woman and her dog brought me sunshine whatever the weather.
I felt a longing then for something I could never fathom. I still do and I still can’t. Eventually she found her feet and made the most of her prospects, at which point I became redundant. It was perfectly right and proper that I should, so I can have no complaint or reason to feel aggrieved. And so I don’t; but the light of connection which I felt so strongly continues to haunt my consciousness sometimes.
Maybe that was why I wrote that wistful little story, Coming Full Circle. Maybe I was trying to release some negative energy, or redress the balance in some way, or maintain the illusion of continued connectedness. I really don’t know. I hardly ever do.
2 comments:
Greetings! This is not related to your post, but I wanted to take a chance and reach out to you. I have been doing some edits for someone. I feel that I learned a great deal from you in that department. But, his response was less than enthusiastic. It is because I want to continue on as an editor, I was hoping you might take a look at what his objections were. I have great respect for your editorial eye.
Be Well!
Bree
Sorry, Bree. My interest in such matters died a long time ago. Good luck with your endeavors.
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