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At the point of departure for a road less travelled for the girl and the boy in love, I arrive late.

I am the privileged spectator of a scene first rehearsed one early September day a long long time ago. Perhaps in somebody else’s life, perhaps in yours, perhaps in mine.

At this exact moment all three of us, two shadows of the past and I, have the exact same memory.

Maybe if I manage to grab her and she does not slip through my fingers like smoke, if I shake her up or try to possess her younger body, maybe all that is done will be undone. Or maybe it will all happen again exactly in the same way.

We might all be blessed with the absolution of memory soon. A second and third life in the same breath.  All three sigh and start from a clean slate. The slate we are looking at now is muddy, buried under dark dirt…like an abandoned grave.

Today, sitting here between our shadows, extending my hand to reach out to them, a hand they can’t see, lives weave in and out of my heart. And I am waiving hello and goodbye to all three of us.

For all of us. 

blue creek cafe

 

© Moutselou

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