Thread
In my grandmother’s hope chest, I come across a photo for which I have no meaning–thread spools and a diary.
Beneath the photograph lies the aged diary, which I open.
In her curly inked strokes: Never forget a slender thread of humanity sews every single one of us together.
end
2/17/2018
Sascha Darlington
So few lines, so much meaning. Wow.
Thank you, Maggie!
Love this!