October 12, 2015
I find myself assailed by dark waters again, pooling around memories and claiming their markings. Tears splash, creating a perverse dance of ripples in the smelly intruder. I know better than store belongings in my basement, but within my house, there is nowhere else to keep them. I thought I’d managed better, kept things up from the ground and encased in plastic, but laziness and accumulation found boxes exposed to this latest flood.
I hate how what seems solid becomes pliant as cardboard when exposed thus. By nature, water is insidious, able to creep into the most secure of hiding places. A black garbage bag collects treasures I wished to preserve. A rare note from my curly-haired blonde proclaiming love for me. She never responds when I express my love for her any more, never offers an endearment for me. Now, she stares, blank and…
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