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blackandwhiteandcolours
I take pictures – I read books – Daily photos – Daily quotes
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shadow
Too hot.
An airless room.
She leaned toward him, ever so slightly.
He couldn’t see where he was going.
He was doing the kind of work he loved.
It was one of those mornings when he felt like singing.
There ain’t no place for nobody to go.
I haven’t any idea where she goes.
I was thinking about something else.
I wish I did know. I’ll probably never know.
Last chance to do what?
He didn’t say much.
He paused, remembering the early morning quiet of the street.
It was like a dance, a crazy kind of dance.
Saturday? Here? Is that all right?
And strangely enough, he found it delightful.
Remembering the old loves, the old hates, for the last hundred years.
Gone Fishin’
The signs tell the story of the change.
She was accustomed to darkness.
She waited for his answer, leaning toward him.
The street would provide plenty of customers.
She finished the beer in one long gulp.
It was the most beautiful street she had ever seen.
What have you got for me?
Nothing was right; nothing could cure her restlessness.
That which is lost is found.
What is memory but a rope slung across time?
Time can’t unhappen but it can be unlost. Can it?
Not the past, not the future, this now.
In the small space they occupy their own time is real.
What is memory anyway but a painful dispute with the past?
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