I’m back. I guess that’s silly. I’ve been here…just not always here here.
This was written for Carrot Ranch, into the dark.
Lost Compass (99 words)
The rainy days are the easiest. I turn over, pretend the sun hasn’t risen, the day hasn’t begun, except for the hum of traffic, mocking in its ocean-like rhythm.
At work, I cajole, pretend. At home, I sink, obsess over regrets that lure me into the dark, driving me to ask how did I get here?
When I was little, my granny would open a can of tuna. I’d eat the flakes from the can while she mentored. “You can be and do anything you want.”
Molten desire. Wrong road. Answered naïve prayer.
Gran, I let us both down.
5 thoughts on “Lost Compass”
Wow, that piece of memory embedded between despair and guilt is magnificent, Sascha. A painful flash, yet beautifully written. And welcome back to here, here.
Thank you, Charli, I very much appreciate your comments!.. Last month was challenging but edifying! And, I like being back back.
This is great, Sascha
Thank you so much, Roberta! 🙂