FOOTSTEPS the journey proceeds and lost friends reappear as the spell checker goes bump in the night my last resort a phone call and the missing voice answered and we found out why he had retreated from the technology after a year of losing three wonderful friends I was in an existential panic would the blows keep falling and in the grey Vancouver day with the crazy and the lazy and the addicted none of this could have been predicted and the season to touch base to appreciate a friends face and hear the much beautiful voice and the warm feeling of choice the anal in me prepared a list of the baggage to be carried all the junk which is needed to communicate without knowing when its all too late and on the street the sound of marching feet a glance behind to beware and reassure ourselves there is nothing there JWL © 08/12/2014
Posted on: Tue, 09 Dec 2014 04:43:31 +0000
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